


Chance Meetings

by Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron



Series: A Different Life [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 89,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4571841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron/pseuds/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Krypton died when Kal was ten giving his father enough time to create a ship to take them to earth. Landing in the manor's back garden Bruce grew up with the El's as his new family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is now the Revised Version. It will be similar at the beginning, because I'm happy with that part. From chapter 2 onwards it will be different.

He woke covered in sweat, still willing himself long after his dream faded to wake up.

"It wasn't real."

It was what he had told himself when he was still asleep. As if saying it would make it so. He had found comfort in it when he was under, awake and he knew that wasn't true. It was real. The glassy eyes that had begged him to join them were lying in a graveyard not far from his home. His parents were dead, there was no changing that.

Past experience had taught him that he wouldn't get back to sleep that night. If he was lucky, he would be able to starve off his dreams until daylight, when the sun soothed him into dreamless sleep. So he got up. If only to escape his parents, waiting to scare and terrorize him like they had done for the past three months.

The manor was quiet. It always had been. Even when he was a boy it was quiet despite the fact there were more people back then. His father had said it was because it was large. The hallways were too tall and their girth too wide. It was what came from having money. That, along with the furniture and paintings that stretched back hundreds of years.

He ducked his head out of habit as he came to his father's study. The portrait of the three of them started out at him. He could feel their eyes following his back, glassy eyed and vigilant like they were in his dreams.

He would have to ask Alfred to take it down. But in the morning. Right now the butler needed his sleep. For too long now he had spent his nights looking after him. Waking him when he couldn't himself or being there with a glass of milk. It was strange, before the accident they spoke but he was always just someone that worked for him. Now, he was the only familiar thing he had left, and the only person he could begin to call family. Sure, he had an uncle and some distant cousins. Unfortunately they had made their intentions known when they got their own share of the fortune and tried to swindle him out of the rest of it. Alfred was the only one who cared for his well being. Alfred was therefore important, which was the reason he had to be looked after as well as Bruce was.

He found Alfred's cookies straight away. He hadn't even hid them this time, merely left them on the bench with a note to check in the fridge. Sure enough there were more snacks for him there. He took a cookie, hesitantly taking a bite before concluding that they were getting better.

He took a few more on his walk around the manor, knowing the butler would be happy to see the plate touched in the morning.

He happily chomped them down as he climbed the stairs back into the entrance hall.

It was strange, he mused as he started down the familiar corridor, it almost seemed like he had heard a knock.

Knock.

This time he did hear it. He turned to where the front door loomed, the banging coming again as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. No one good knocks this late, that he had learnt from an attempted kidnapping when he was five. So who was knocking?

7 years later:

"He's not coming out."

Bruce scowled at his door. They were talking about him like he couldn't hear him. He sometimes wondered how they couldn't see why he stormed away from them so often.

"Should we get Alfred?"

"I don't think that's necessary Kal."

They thought Bruce couldn't understand them if they spoke in Kryptonian. They should have known better.

"One swift push," Jor continued, "and-" the door caved under Jor's hand.

Bruce quickly scampered out of the way. Straightening the broken wood Jor smiled kindly at Bruce, it was a look he often used when trying to placate him. Over the years Bruce had dubbed it his patient look.

"Dinner is almost ready. I understand that Kal may have upset you, and he will apologise for that. Now, let's not neglect your nutrition again." He gestured for Bruce to follow him. The look of it all appearing innocent but Bruce could see the threat underneath it. The door sitting to his right and years living under them had proved that those hands were capable of much more than Bruce's own.

Not for the first time he wished he had never opened that door.

Lara was waiting for them in the dining room. She signalled the chair he was to take while getting up to help Kal into his. It was like he was a child, Bruce thought in disgust, he was perfectly capable of finding a seat and pulling it out on his own. Still, he kept his words to himself. He was already on thin ice with these people.

Alfred rolled dinner out as punctual as he always did. Bruce took his share and tried to drown himself in food so as not to answer the polite questions Lara routinely asked him. School came up, as it always did, and fortunately for him Kal was more than excited to answer on Bruce's behalf. When he was asked directly he kept things short and to the point. They weren't really interested in his day after all. Merely checking to see whether he had blown their cover. It wasn't like they were in hiding. Everyone knew about his mysterious Aunt and Uncle who had arrived a couple of years ago. It was easy for the story to be accepted. Jor and Kal shared some similar qualities with Bruce after all. Dark hair and blue eyes with the only noticeable difference being their tan, something Bruce had never had since he enjoyed the indoors far too much to give up his pale skin. So for all intents and purposes they could pass as Waynes. Like his door, sometimes Bruce wished someone would find out that this wasn't the case. That they were refugee aliens from a dead planet and his father had offered them sanctuary before he died.

Either that or his father actually telling him about his strange encounter with these aliens. When he was eight, and they arrived bloodied and suffocating from the earth air, he had screamed sure, but he had eventually let them in. Years of exposure and unanswered questions had left him speculating what actually happened to them. Whether their planet had died. Whether they had tried to save it. Whether they meant to leech off Bruce until they had enough resources to start a full scale invasion.

The conversation drifted from English to Kryptonian when Lara tired of Bruce's vague responses. Kal's was broken when he spoke it. Too used to speaking English he could barely remember some of the phrases that had came so natural to him years ago.

"How was school Kal? Did he behave himself?"

He? At least they had the decency not to sound like they were speaking behind his back.

"Of course mother. In fact, he excelled at his recent class test and has a competition coming up in Karate. I'm sure he would tell you himself if you asked again."

Bruce refrained from glaring at Kal. His constant companion and appointed babysitter didn't even realise he was being used as a spy for his parents. Or did he?

"If he's doing so well then why the attitude? I honestly wonder why we try sometimes," Jor sighed.

Bruce ground his teeth. Any indication he knew what they were saying would mean he lost his only means of spying on them.

"Don't be so negative. Besides, I looked these symptoms up in an earth book Alfred brought me. Apparently these 'mood swings' are common in growing terrans. Bruce is simply becoming a man." She looked adoringly at Kal while she spoke. She didn't have to worry about Kal going through these supposed 'mood swings.' He had literally flown through his growth spurt. Bruce had nearly had a heart attack when he saw him flying over his bed the other day.

"Well, he should grow up faster. He's getting more sullen every time I see him." For a man of science Jor had little patience when it came to Bruce.

"Alfred says these 'mood swings' settle in a couple of years. Surely you can put up with it for a little while longer. Remember, we are the aliens here Jor, not him." If it weren't for the fact she wanted to stay on Bruce's good side he probably would have liked her.

He finished his meal and sat back while the others scraped their plates clean. Alfred came out with desert soon after, slipping Bruce a little extra with a warm smile. He was the only one in the manor Bruce could stand seeing these days. Up until he sucked up to their intruders.

It was a relief to be dismissed. It was only when he was halfway back to his room that he remembered there would be no privacy. Jor had destroyed his door after all.

Growling, he stormed through the corridors he knew off by heart until he came to an old portrait of his great grandfather. Lifting the bottom, the false wall fell away and let Bruce into one of the manors many secrets.

When he was younger Bruce had thought the court of owls had used this place as a nest. Spying on his family while they went on with their lives, oblivious. Investigation had led him to some more 'nests' around the manor and nothing more. Whatever these rooms were used for, if it was the owls, they had done a good job of covering their tracks. As it was, Bruce just used them to hide in, collect his thoughts away from spaceships and aliens. His favourites were this room and the old cave system running under the house. Unfortunately Jor had confiscated Bruce's secret key to his fathers' study the other day. It was the only entrance he knew of, and right now couldn't be bothered to pick the lock.

Lighting one of the gas lamps he pulled up a chair and settled in with one of his books.

Hours, and a small nap later, he stretched and paced to walk the weariness off that overcame him. He cut the light off and climbed out of his hiding hole, only to fall flat on his face. It seemed he wasn't the only one that had napped as Kal jolted awake and rubbed the spot Bruce had tripped over. It wasn't like he could feel it. Years of blending in had left him with some habits that he naturally fell in to, such as pretending something hurt.

Regaining his footing, he stifled the rage that boiled through him. He really had no privacy in this place. This was his home, and he felt like a prisoner.

"Can I help you?" He grit out.

Kal straightened. "I thought you might want some help with your homework. I know you hate English. Only you were in there and I don't know how to get in and... well, I guess I must have drifted off."

"I don't need your help. Alfred is usually on hand if I do." He tried to say it in the politest way he could. There was no need to upset his alien overlords anymore today.

"Alright then. Would you like a game of chess? Maybe we could use your secret room."

"No," He snapped. Taking a deep breath he tried again. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed."

"It's still early," Kal argued. "Please? We never spend any time together."

Bruce stopped himself from countering with, out of everyone, he spent the most time with Kal.

"I'm tired Kal."

He walked back to his broken door. All the while he could feel his shadow trotting behind him like a faithful dog. As if just thinking the word made it appear he saw their actual dog on his bed when he got there. Not only that, the white beast was shedding all over his sheets.

"Off!"

Krypto didn't move, just rolled onto his back.

"Down boy," Kal called in Kryptonian.

The dog only obeyed Kryptonian commands, and didn't hesitate in obeying Kal now. Shaking one last time it bounded over to its grinning master still lingering in Bruce's doorway.

Glaring at his broken door he batted at the lingering hairs on his bed. Nothing was keeping Krypto out now. The beast would be infiltrating his room as often as he could now. Sighing, he changed into his pyjama's, ignoring the feeling that he had eyes on his back. When he looked at Kal he saw him fidgeting. He thought nothing of it. It was how his parents told him to blend in after all. Still, he didn't like the fact he was still there.

"Tired means I wish to sleep. Preferably without someone watching me."

Kal moved further into the room rather than leaving.

"Alfred usually watches you. I was thinking I could do it tonight. He says it helps with the nightmares if you have someone near," he was almost at the bed by the time he had finished.

"Someone meaning Alfred. And it's not like I asked him to do it, he just does." Truthfully, Bruce hadn't even known the man still did it.

"Well, if he just does it then that means I can. I don't like hearing you scream."

Bruce groaned, knowing he wouldn't win tonight. Kal was horribly persistent at times. So he turned his back, not arguing any more and slid into bed. He felt Kal crawl in next to him moments later.

"You haven't done your English homework," Kal reminded him after a while.

Bruce gritted his teeth and resolutely ignored him.

It was still early, the sun having just set an hour ago. He had trouble shutting his brain down, which wasn't helped by the sniffs, coughs and kicks Kal made. Nor the three attempts at conversation. He still hadn't fell asleep as his father's grandfather clock chimed twelve. Kal, on the other hand, had, which was unfortunate since as soon as he had, whatever authority that had held Krypto at bay went. The dog was soon stretched across Bruce's legs, weighing him down as he wiggled to get comfortable.

Bruce snapped.

Shoving the dog into Kal, he padded out his door and towards his father's study. Who cared if he wasn't allowed in there. This was his home, yet right now the only place that felt like home to him were the caves.

He was almost near his father's door when a cough had him spinning.

"Go back to bed," Jor said. He looked like he had just jumped out of bed himself. His dark hair stuck out on end and his shirt was askew, like he had ran out as soon as he figured out Bruce wasn't in bed.

He wouldn't put it past the man.

"I can't. Kals' in it."

An expression Bruce would have described as a cringe on anyone else overcame Jor's face.

"I'm thirsty anyway. So why don't you go back to bed and trust I'll do the same once I'm done."

The scowl that replaced the cringe told Bruce he wasn't being as polite as he thought he was.

"I'll come with you, I'm feeling rather thirsty myself." He herded Bruce down the stairs and into the kitchen. He took a seat at the bench, watching Bruce putter around. "This young sun... I can't tell whether it's a blessing or a curse. Either way I'm thankful your father offered us sanctuary."

If Bruce had half the powers they had the kitchen probably wouldn't be standing.

"Bruce, I think it's time we had a talk. Alfred tells me that it's normal for terrans to go through mood swings and hold short tempers when changing into an adult. You however... there's something more to your rage. I like to think over the years that you consider us family. Maybe not the one you wanted, but I know Lara and I are grateful you entered our lives. Therefore, if you wish to tell us what it is that's behind all this, we'll listen."

"I'm alright," was all he could say. There was no way he was going to relieve himself to Jor.

"Well alright then," Jor accepted.

He escorted Bruce back to his room. Journeying in to awe at his son and make sure Bruce wasn't going to leave again.

Trying to go to sleep after that was a challenge. In the end he didn't. It wasn't the first night he had lost sleep on and he doubted it would be the last.

Kal woke at seven. Drawing back Bruce's curtains with the biggest grin on his face as he greeted the sun. "Good morning Bruce. I knew last night was a good idea. I never heard you once."

Maybe that was because he was a deep sleeper, Bruce kept that to himself. Instead, he kicked Krypto off his legs again and went to hunt down Alfred for breakfast.

Lara had taken over the kitchen when he got down. Alfred was hovering behind her, not a strange sight for someone foreign in his kitchen. He was never allowed to do what Lara was. Alfred had all but banned Bruce from touching anything after it showed he had no culinary skills at all.

"Good morning Bruce," she chimed. "Alfred is letting me make pancakes. If you hurry, I think they'll be done by the time you're changed."

Kal had almost finished all of them by the time he came back down. Jor was also awake, greeting Bruce with a practised 'good morning' the family had perfected after seeing it on TV. Dressed for work at Bruce's company he cringed at how little he actually owned.

Alfred handed over a plate of slightly burnt pancakes with an apology written across his face. "I will have your door fixed by the time you come home Master Bruce."

He said his thanks and sat down, resigned to another day living in his absurd life.

School was alright. It was a reprieve from his supposed family since Kal only saw him at lunch. Unfortunately school was also boring. Everything they taught him he already knew. Lunch times were dull without friends to talk to, and friends were hard to come by since most of them were idiots. Which meant he had the choice of either talking to Kal, and listening to his list of what he had found interesting that day, or read. His eidetic memory meant he rarely forgot something, and further made school a pointless endeavour. He had already read all of his class books, along with background reading. He had even finished most of his school essays, they were waiting on his desk for the teachers to announce them.

Really, the only thing he couldn't plan for in school was the homework. One such subject that was responsible for most of his homework was English. It was on a book of his choice and really should have only taken him a few hours. But Kal had some weird sense about when he was going to do his homework and often ended up distracting him.

He hid himself away in the library that lunch, hoping Kal was too busy to find him. No such luck. He ended up storming away from him when Kal tried to help him with his homework again. He was almost regretting it as he remembered he had flung his favourite Sherlock Holmes book at him.

"I think he might be... you know, slow. I mean, he's always saying how great everything is."

Bruce stopped as the voice echoed in the stairwell. He recognised that voice. Also the person they were speaking about. There was no one else it could be.

He peered over the stairs to see them. There were three of them. Two must have been in Kal's class, since they were older than him. The third however, he recognized from his Geography class.

"Tell me about it. If it weren't for their money I think he probably would have been held back. Hear that Charlie, he could've been in your class."

Charlie was placed in a headlock. Squirming his way out he complained, "As if. I've seen him with Wayne. He'd probably be held back again in case Wayne ended up doing him in."

"Oh yeah. I forgot about Wayne. Creep. I heard his dad was part of a cult. My dad says those people he lives with aren't actually related to him. That they're keeping him hostage, fattening him up, so they can off him like his parents.

Bruce would have scoffed at their absurdity if they hadn't been so close to the truth. About them not being related, the rest of it was up for debate.

"That's ridiculous. My dad on the other hand said that the man is actually Wayne's father. Apparently his mom whored herself out and-"

The kid speaking was on the floor before he finished speaking. Bruce felt hands on him trying to pry him off and a hit to his face that would bruise later. Shaking it off, he grabbed the next arm coming to strike him, and twisted until he heard a snap. Lunging for the third, he had him on his front with minimal damage from the kick he was aiming at Bruce's face.

It took three teachers crowding him against a wall, and Kal holding him before he calmed down enough to feel the pain in his hands and face. Kal was still whispering calming things in his ear as the paramedics arrived for Bruce's victims. They dabbed Bruce's face, and bandaged his knuckles as the teachers called the manor.

He barely cared that Lara came and not Alfred. He barely cared that Lara was furious with him. All he could hear were that boy's accusation. He knew he was being expelled. Lara was arguing his case as best she could, but with her limited experience she eventually had to bring Alfred in. The man put up a good fight, however the lacerations Bruce had received and dealt worked against him. At two, after the boys parents had came in, it was official: Bruce wasn't allowed back to Gotham academy.

The car ride to the manor was stilted with unsaid reprimands and disappointment. Lara held her head high as they stopped outside Wayne Enterprises. Jor didn't have her poise as he ran down to their car. He heard them hissing in Kryptonian on the way to the manor, discussing what to do with him.

He didn't give them a chance to herd him in the manor. He took off as soon as the car stopped and broke into his father's study. Down in the caves the bats didn't bother him, and allowed him to scale their walls into a dry little niche he had found. The blankets were still there in their haphazard nest he had left them in. His torch was easy to find and turn on to keep the bats away. It slowly died the longer he stayed there but he wasn't going to go up. The El's didn't like coming down here. It wasn't that they were intimidated by the darkness or the bats. The reason they didn't like coming down was because Bruce had a tendency to run off. The echo system meant they couldn't keep track of him. He could disappear down here for hours.

Despite all that Jor gave it a try a few hours later. Calling down he said, "We're not mad Bruce." Liar. "Kal told us why you did it. You were just protecting us. I know you may need some time alone, so come up whenever you're ready. I promise, we just want to talk with you."

Bruce shuffled further into his blankets.

He suffered through a day and a half in the caves. Eventually, it was Alfred that dragged him up. Luring him down with cookies only to grab him and haul him to the kitchen.

"Sleeping in those caves... did you not think about your injuries? Tell me Master Bruce, how does victory feel? I thought I had raised you better than to life your fist to a few barbs."

His hands were stripped roughly and shoved under a cold spray.

"They insulted my mother." Saying it out loud didn't carry the justification Bruce thought it had.

"I see. So it wasn't the gallant defence of Master Kal that brought out this feral behaviour. You realize Master Jor is looking into human behaviour again. Let's hope this is one of those times I can persuade him you're alright. Home schooling will be recommended on my part, you do need an education. But I'll phrase it in a way that it will benefit you intellectually."

Bruce hung his head as Alfred dabbed disinfectant on his knuckles. "Thank you Alfred." His hands were re-bandaged and one of Alfred's cookies stuck in his mouth.

"Might I make a suggestion. If you wish to remain out of Gotham's psychiatric hands, then start being nice. If not to Master Jor and Lara than to Kal. The boy likes you, and it wouldn't kill you to have one friend." He was dismissed after that.

The manor was empty from all but him and Alfred. The study door had been locked as soon as Alfred had pried him out of it. Fortunately, his own door had been re attached, and, after he expelled Krypto, he had it all to himself. For an hour. He hadn't really watched the time, and forgot that Kal would be back at four. All the warning he had was the door bursting open before boy and dog were seated on his bed.

"You're out," Kal grinned."Mother was going to send Krypto in if you weren't out by dinner. I'm glad you are, you're the talk of the school you know. Everyone's gossiping about your fight. Of course, I had to correct a few stories, especially the one Duncan was telling. You were defending my honour after all, it's the least I could do to make you look like a hero."

He flattened the scowl on his face into something neutral. "I hope you didn't phrase it that way. People will think you're my boyfriend rather than my cousin."

Kal shrugged. "It doesn't matter. All that does is that you have a fearsome reputation for when you come back."

This time Bruce did frown. "I'm not coming back. Didn't Lara tell you I've been expelled?"

"What? No. You have to come back. Where else will you learn how to be a terran?" He looked genuinely confused as well.

"I'm already a terran. Besides, school's a bore. Alfred said he's suggesting a tutor." He hoped Alfred was suggesting a competent one. He noticed Krypto sniffing at his clothes. "Could you remove your dog. I don't like what he's already done to my coat."

Kal called Krypto over and, not for the first time, Bruce wished he could just do it himself. Bruce stretched out as much as he could to ward off Krypto's slavering form.

"But school won't be the same without you there. I know, I'll ask mother if I can have a tutor as well. This way we can both still spend the day together.""

Bruce remembered what Alfred said about making friends and plastered on a nice smile. "You can't do that Kal. I have to stay home because I was expelled. Don't throw away your education because of me. Think about all your friends. Won't they be upset if you left?"

An odd look overcame Kals face. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Sudden images of lunch times spent with no one but Bruce and the words those three boys said came back to him. Bruce didn't think Kal had any friends now he thought about it.

"Still, if you left then it would probably be harder for you to blend in with terrans. Many social cues we learn from school. With just myself and Alfred I fear you may slip up later life." It was a long shot, one Bruce could see was working.

"Father would hate it if we were discovered," Kal agreed. "Very well I'll stay."

Then room lapsed into silence with Bruce hoping Kal would just leave. With no sign of movement forthcoming Bruce left his own room to traipse around the library. Five chimed with a door closing. Kal's name rang up the stairs as Lara and Jor returned. The thought to hide crossed his mind., he could spend the rest of the week in the caves. His spine won out. Bracing himself he went back to his room, showered and changed, before waiting at the table for dinner.

The first one down meant he had the pleasure of watching the surprise come over Jor and Laras face when they joined him. Unlike yesterday he answered what they asked him. He was as polite as he could be, and was glad when not one word of his expulsion came up. The conversation stayed in English all the way to desert. Jor told him about a new serum he was developing to cure cancer. The only problem was that earth didn't have some of the necessary ingredients he required. Lara informed him about a new shop that had just opened up. She was planning on taking him and Kal for new shirts as Alfred cleared their plates away, before offering some advice to her husband about how he could work around the serum problems. He wondered why she never went to work with him sometimes.

It was with a pointed glance from Alfred that the conversation turned to Bruce's schooling. Jor jumped right in. "Alfred has suggested we hire a tutor. Lara and I will choose him, of course, but your insight will be most helpful on the matter."

Bruce nodded and said nothing more on the subject. So long as he kept quiet there wouldn't be any more problems. "I'll look over your choices when you have them. For now, may I be excused?"

They let him go.

The tutor Alfred found him was acceptable. He realised that Bruce needed more of a challenge and provided it. For once, Bruce had nothing to complain about education wise. Kal on the other hand, came home from school miserable. He would constantly seek out Bruce in the manor and tell him about his day. Sure, there were the things he found fascinating about terrans in his conversation, but mostly it was talks on what the kids were doing. Apparently, he got into a fight one day, which would have shocked Bruce, were it not for the fact it was Charlie and his gang. They had recruited reinforcements and struck Bruce through Kal. If only they knew how little he cared.

Really, everything had been going fine, which was why he should have expected something to go wrong. That wrong being Kal got his heat vision.

Bruce was in the middle of his research paper about 18th century Gotham when he heard doors slamming and Jor calling for Alfred. Lara came in a couple of minutes after the slamming had died down to excuse the tutor for the day. It was only when Bruce saw her show him out that he knew it was an alien matter. Lara usually left Alfred to show them out, she only followed them herself if there was something to hide.

The problem had Kal holding his hands over his eyes. Jor was talking in rapid Kryptonian to his son about his powers being perfectly natural. It was only because he was growing that they had started appearing and fluctuating as they settled into his body.

"Should we take him outside?" Lara asked. She had Kal in her arms as soon as she could reach him.

"No. He needs to learn to control them." Looking around, Jor spotted Bruce lingering in the doorway "Come here Bruce."

"Why?" He didn't want to be anywhere near Kal if he was destroying things.

"Please," Jor beckoned him over, and eventually pulled him in front of Kal. Speaking to his son in their language Bruce was shocked when Jor told him to "Open your eyes Kal. Try and control it."

"I can't," Kal sobbed. "I wrecked one of the walls at school with it!"

"You can do it Kal. Just open your eyes. Bruce is right in front of you. If you can stop yourself from burning him then you can control it Kal."

Bruce tried to struggle away, but Jor had an iron grip.

"Let go," Bruce hissed, and watched in muted horror as Kal snapped his eyes open and looked at him.

"Father you're hurting him." Kal pointed to the bruises forming.

"Yes but you've opened your eyes. See Kal, I knew you could do it."

Bruce was released as Jor and Lara turned to helping Kal turn his vision back on. Not waiting around to be used again he ran upstairs and back to his paper. It was halfway through his second book that it dawned on him he could have died. Jor literally put him in a situation where Kal could have killed him and didn't think twice about it.

The disappointed look on Kal's face as he passed the library later showed that he hadn't mastered his new ability yet. Truthfully, Bruce hoped he hurt Jor a little when it happened again. The rest of the night he heard nothing but Jor and Lara talk about Kal's heat vision. Being adults when they arrived, it had been a quick transformation with lots of nights spent sitting outside their room as Alfred tended to their gasping breaths and muted screams. Kal had a hard time breathing at first too, but hadn't shown any sign of the immense power Jor and Lara possessed until he turned ten. Strength, speed and then flying had been the first powers to come to him, and now he was getting the more dangerous ones. Bruce felt sick as Kal wandered into his room that night. All it took was a lapse in concentration and Bruce would have two holes in his body.

"Father said I'm staying off school tomorrow. I know it's to help me practice, but maybe we could spend some of it together as well. Mother said she was cancelling your tutor after all." His eyes were still blue as he spoke.

"No. I'd rather not be scorched to death if it's all the same." Still nothing. Kal didn't even look offended at Bruce's barb. With only a hint of curiosity he invited Kal to stay a while longer "What do you think triggered it?"

The teen shrugged. "I was in the middle of biology and suddenly there was a hole where my book was. The teacher thought I had left a Bunsen burner on."

"So it just came on?"

Kal nodded.

"I don't buy it. You haven't had a growth spurt, or were in danger. Your powers are usually triggered by something, so what was it? What were you thinking at the time? Doing?"

Bruce watched as Kal's cheeks went red and he tugged on his shirt. "I guess I was thinking about this girl."

"Ah," Bruce nodded "Sex. I should have known that would trigger something."

"Sex?" Kal asked. "What does someone's gender have to do with my powers?"

"Gender? I'm talking about reproduction," Kal still looked lost. Then it dawned on him "How exactly do kryptonian's reproduce?"

Kal had been nine when they landed. Although he didn't spend that long on his home planet, he still remembered most of their systems. Not to mention his parents never let him forget just how advanced kryptonians were from terrans.

"They put their genes in a gestation chamber and waited until the child was ready to come home. From your tone, I'm guessing terrans have a different system?"

So did Lara if what Bruce overheard was right. She had talked to Alfred about birthing Kal when they thought he was asleep once. It sounded like everything else he knew about babies, he hadn't believed until now that Lara may have been an exception.

"We have sex. If you want to know what that is then I suggest you look it up." Bruce was losing interest in the subject. If Kal hadn't been thinking about sex when looking at that girl then it was probably some inkling of longing courtship he wished to initiate. Bruce knew he didn't want to sit through that.

"Why can't you tell me about it?"

Bruce rolled his eyes at Kal's curiosity. "I don't want to," He went back to his book "Please leave."

A day at the manor with Kal started off differently than Bruce thought it would. For one, there were holes in Kal's door when he passed. Looking through one he could see stray ones through walls as well. All of their trajectories connecting to the bed where Kal was sleeping peacefully.

Alfred was making breakfast as Lara and Jor made lesson plans for Kal.

"His bedroom's ruined," Bruce called to them as he took his toast outside.

When Kal did wake up Bruce avoided him like the plague. Thankfully, Jor was having his lessons outside which didn't make that plan too hard. He did peer down to see what they were doing about mid day. A sort of target range had been set up with Jor shouting encouragements to his son from his hiding spot. From what Bruce gathered, Kal had only been able to activate his heat vision once and was slowly growing frustrated with the lack of progress.

"Perhaps you should go down and cheer him on."

Bruce had stopped jumping at Alfred's random appearances years ago. That didn't mean he wasn't startled the butler had managed to sneak up on him again.

"If I did it would mean I cared." He moved away from the window and back to his studies.

"Checking up on Master Kal from afar can also be conceived as caring Master Bruce. Sometimes I wonder what you believe will happen if you show some generosity towards them. They're good people."

Bruce tried to keep his face neutral. "I have no doubt of that Alfred. Otherwise we would all be slaves to their race. However, if last night's show wasn't enough proof I'm sure Jor will tell you just how disposable he believes I am."

Alfred sighed and came nearer so Bruce went on. "He could have killed me and he didn't even care. All I am to him is a benefactor- not even that since it was my father who invited them."

"He wasn't going to let anything happen to you Master Bruce." Alfred sounded so sure of himself. "He would have pulled you away the instant Master Kal lost control. The only reason he didn't was because he knew Master Kal wouldn't hurt you."

Bruce scoffed and gathered his things together. "Believe what you like."

His hiding spot behind his great grandfather's portrait would be a welcome haven.

He came out after finishing his paper. Alfred was sure to be ignoring him if he sought him out. So, with nothing better to do, he went to watch Kal stare at some cans. It turned out watching Kal was even more boring than doing nothing. The only source of amusement Bruce could find was the cheer leading squad Kal had acquired. Bruce knew he wasn't supposed to respond to anything in kryptonian, but some of it was just hilarious. Jor threw statistics and shouts of encouragements at his son, while Lara worked on comforting him and bribing him as the time went on. Krypto joined in at some point. Howling and barking, he jumped in front of some cans and shot his own heat vision at others.

"Drink Master Kal?" Alfred called, bypassing Bruce altogether as he held out a tray to them.

Kal sighed in relief and bounded over to Alfred "Thank yo-" In seconds Lara had Alfred safely next to Bruce as Kal's heat vision acted up. Jor whooped and turned his boy in the right direction.

Bruce didn't know what came over him. It was like those boys again. One minute he was watching, shocked, at the patio doors, and the next he was trying to topple an invulnerable boy. Jor naturally had him back before he could hurt his hand and Alfred hurried over to calm him down.

"You almost killed him! He's all I have left and you- LET GO!" He struggled as much as he could, but Jor just held him tighter.

"I'm fine Master Bruce. Like I told you before Master Kal wouldn't hurt us."

The boy in question was being comforted by his mother.

"But he did. He did Alfred don't deny it! If it weren't for Lara you would be dead and I would be alone, with them!"

Jor set him down and held his shoulders so he wouldn't run away. He addressed Alfred like Bruce wasn't even there. "I know you said these mood swings would pass but are you sure this is normal? I've studied other boys his age and Bruce seems to be the only one with an over exaggerated temper, along with some other questionable qualitie-"

"Just shut up and let me go!" He tried to wrench himself free again "You speak about me being normal. You're not normal yourself you're an alien. You have no right to question what's normal on this planet!"

"Master Bruce-"

"No Alfred! I am sick of being their prisoner. I don't get any sleep because he creeps into my room." Bruce pointed at Kal. "I can't wander my own house because he keeps it locked up. I can't even call for help without asking Lara first, just in case I spill their little secret. I have every right to be angry."

As soon as he finished he regretted it. All of his rage vanished as cold shame washed over him. He had lost control of himself, twice in as many weeks, and cringed again as he felt the wetness on his cheeks.. Jor seemed to sense he was calm as the grip holding him relaxed enough for him to slip out and run to the house.

Alfred found him later curled up in his father's old chair. Their faces stared down at him from their flat painting whilst Alfred's burned holes in the side of his head.

"You realise what your little explosion has caused." It wasn't a question. Alfred knew that Bruce realised the consequences for his actions.

"When are they coming?" He barely recognised the emotionless tone of his own.

"Tomorrow. Leslie has had them lined up since you were nine." A tray was placed on the desk in front of him. Muffins and fresh tea couldn't erase what Bruce had done, but it showed that Alfred didn't hate him. "They'll be here at nine. I suggest you get a good nights sleep Master Bruce."

He went back to his room when he saw shadows circling his father's study. Jor didn't want to kick Bruce out, yet he made his presence known all the same. Kal was nowhere to be found and some distant part of Bruce hoped that the teen was recovering from a burn.

Changing felt like a chore and when he actually lay on his bed it seemed stupid to even try, he was only going to get changed again tomorrow. When the psychiatrist came and asked probing questions. Expecting answers Bruce didn't want to give. Didn't want to face. Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut.

He lay like that for an hour. Contemplating his new life of medication and scheduled appointments. Turning to the window it looked like the bats didn't even want to stay with him tonight. They had better places to fly off to. Bruce wished he could.

Why couldn't he? The thought dawned and ingrained itself as it repeated in his mind. Why couldn't he leave the manor? Right now, Jor was doors away ,probably consoling his wife and son. Alfred usually spent an hour in the library at this time. It was the perfect opportunity. One he may never get again.

For the first time in a while Bruce thought about what he wanted. What he planned to do when he was older. He remembered sitting in that alley when he was eight and wishing he had the strength to do something. If he left now he could find someone to help him be strong. Sure he couldn't change the past, but he could change the future. He could become someone comfortable. Someone that wouldn't shy away at confrontation. Someone who wouldn't make so much of a mess when he actually got into a fight. Rubbing his thumb over his bandaged knuckles he decided he wanted that.

Wasting no time, he packed light and strolled through the manor like he would any other day. This was his home and he wasn't leaving it a coward. Taking money and some snacks from the kitchen, he gave his old life one more look before going up to his father's study.

The caves were as dark as they always were. Bitingly cold as he walked through damp tunnels and rat infested paths until he came to a waterfall. He had found it once, when Kal insisted on a game of hide and seek. He had been in Gotham eating ice cream when the call came that Kal couldn't find him anywhere. It looked like now he had a better reason to use this exit. Bracing himself, he ran through it as fast as he could. Shaking off the water that seeped into his skin, he made sure not everything in his backpack was salvageable and, satisfied, left.

It was a long walk to Gotham's town. The estates of the rich and famous came first and stretched for miles as only the rich did. Next were the small shops. A village that led into more houses and finally the Gothic architecture of Gotham flourished before him.

It was as he passed the GCPD that it dawned he didn't know where he was going. His mind set had been to just get out, and now he was, he didn't have a plan.

Gotham seemed to turn against him then. Every rustle and bang had him jumping. Too used to Alfred driving him around he hadn't truly been on Gotham's streets alone since his parents died. Even then it hadn't been by choice.

He was just about to turn back when he heard music playing. Following the drum rolls and crescendos he filtered out of Gotham's streets. Light assaulted his vision just as the music boomed and people started cheering. There, on the field, he discovered a circus. His mind screamed cliché even as his body wandered towards the tents behind the big top.

It was difficult finding the bosses tent since many of them looked similar to each other. He had to duck and cover to avoid the beefy men bouncing strays until, finally, luck won out. One of the performers, a clown with quite a sullen expression, brought the nights earnings to one of the tents with the label 'Mr Haly' on the side. Haly's circus was of course run by Mr Haly and Bruce wasted no time sprinting over to his tent.

Inside was a man going into his late forties. Hunched over his pot of cash it took Bruce clearing his throat for him to notice him.

"How'd you get in here?" he got up, most likely in search of his muscle.

"No, wait! I want a job. I need somewhere to go, at least for a while," Bruce cringed at the pleading note in his voice.

"And you thought you'd join the circus. Like we don't get forty others a night thinking the same thing," he scoffed. "So come on then, why should I give you a job? What makes you different from all the others?"

Bruce panicked. Living a privileged lifestyle meant he had limited manual abilities. "I don't know," he said as one thought stuck in his head. He didn't want to go back home. "I'm a fast learner."

"Fast learner means no skills." Mr Haly pinched the corner of Bruce's shirt. "Nice clothes like that... Go home kid, you're parents must be worried sick."

"I don't have any," he'd said it so often it sounded emotionless now. "Please, give me a chance. I'll do anything. Work people don't even want to do. You don't even have to pay me, just don't make me go home."

For a moment he thought Mr Haly was going to kick him out as he yelled "Norton!" A man with a gaunt face came running in. "Put him with Eleanor. If he still wants to come with us in the morning give him to Wilhelm."

The man smirked and led Bruce back into the array of tents. They passed them all until there were only the animal's carriages left. At the end of the enclosure Norton pulled open one of the larger carriages doors. "In you go," he gestured.

Realisation flooded through Bruce. This was some sort of test. Throw him in with the sharks and see if he chickens out. Well Bruce really had nowhere else to go and he didn't back down from a challenge easily. Walking in he avoided the leavings. That actually calmed him slightly since they were too large to be anything carnivorous. Huddling himself in the corner Norton closed the door and left towards the still cheering big top.

A few hours later the animals started returning to their carriages. The handlers didn't spare Bruce another look, most likely because this was a common sight around here.

Eleanor was one of the last animals to arrive and the sight of her almost made Bruce bolt. An elephant. Huge and grey she piled onto her carriage and sniffed him curiously with her trunk. Bruce took a breath and repeated all the elephant facts he knew to keep him calm. If she had been brought up around humans then it stood to say seeing Bruce wasn't stressful to her. He would be safe tonight. If only he could tell his pounding heart that.

The handler was still standing at the entrance to Eleanor's carriage with the door open. A blatant invitation for Bruce to give up and one he did not take. Shaking his head he regarded Eleanor once more before settling in for a night on iron bars. As her handler moved away Eleanor gave up sniffing him. Instead she poked her trunk through to say goodbye and rooted around in the straw for any treats.

Truthfully the night wasn't so bad. He was fussed over at random intervals which meant sleep was hard to come by. When Eleanor finally went to sleep Bruce just had to endure her snoring. When morning came, sure he smelled and bad and had an ache in his back from the bars, but he had passed their stupid test. That made anything else they threw at him null in comparison. An elephant wasn't going to frighten him off and he told them so. Which was why he ate his words later when working with Wilhelm turned out to be cleaning out the lion.

His handler handed him a hose and sponge as he took the lion for his morning feed. To say cats smelled was an understatement. Eleanor's carriage smelled like pot-pourri in comparison. It took him the better part of two hours to finish. Even then the handler tutted and complained about the standard. Bruce bit his tongue and went as Wilhelm was swapped for Eleanor and then Gunher and Gurbel the tigers. By six he was covered in sweat and had long gone nose blind.

Cleaning the animals was his job for the next three days. Every night he would bunk in with Eleanor, he assumed Mr Haly thought he would quit before they left. Yet on their last day in Gotham Bruce was still there, and helped the others load their things onto the train.

Startled when a hand clasped his shoulder he looked up to see one of the handlers behind him. "Third carriage down," he pointed. "And do everyone a favour and have a bath before we leave."

Following him to one of the few caravans Bruce luxuriated in being clean again. He actually had a bed to sleep in when he got to his carriage as well. Sure, some of them men in with him snored louder than Eleanor, but the soft mattress under his back more than made up for it.

Their next stop was in Florida. The heat was almost unbearable to someone who was only used to extreme heats when relaxing. Working in it became a sort of torture. As soon as they stopped he had to help set up the big top, which left blisters on his hands. Then he had four days of animal waste to clean up- he wasn't ashamed to admit he threw up.

It was hard work but after a couple of months he got used to it. He found he was stronger than he had been when lifting the big top didn't leave him aching the next day. He was allowed more duties now that Mr Haly believed he wasn't leaving any time soon. Helping spy for free loaders and working the concession stand were some of those duties.

When he first watched a performance he was captivated. The performers usually stuck with each other since their training kept them in the big top most hours and Bruce had honestly forgotten how amazing they could be.

It was an quiet day when he managed to watch them train. For some reason there wasn't much to clean on the animal side and he was finished by three. Wandering the tents he asked here and there if anyone needed any help and was more than disappointed to find they didn't. The circus was more than boring with nothing to do and no one to talk to but the animals. Spying the big top, it only seemed natural to have a look at the performers and Bruce wasn't disappointed with what he found.

The Flying Graysons were the head-liners and they earned their place there. They were defying gravity and performing acrobatic tricks Bruce didn't believe possible when he walked in. Sure, some of them argued before flying. The swears Bruce heard were some of the worst he had ever heard, but that didn't mar their performance in the slightest.

"Amazing aren't they?"

Bruce looked over to where the voice had sounded and saw a woman a few seats away. "Incredible," he agreed.

"That's my husband over there," she pointed out.

He was relatively young in his early to mid twenties like her.

"So you're a Flying Grayson as well?"

She nodded. "Mary. And I was," Bruce understood when she pointedly rubbed her stomach. "Another four months."

"Good luck," He went back to watching the performance in front of him.

He felt the air shift next to him and looked to see Mary settling next to him. "Who's son are you then? You smell like one of the handlers, but as far as I know none of them have kids your age. How old are you anyway?"

"Fifteen," he answered honestly. "and I'm not. I joined in Gotham. They have me cleaning the animals out. It's tolerable now though."

She nodded "Runaway huh? So where are you getting off? Well good luck with that."

He shrugged. He planned on staying until he got a better idea of what to do.

A couple of days later he was trying one of the Flying Grayson's floor moves. His chores were done, for now, and he had Eleanor scheduled in for a bath half an hour away, so he thought he would try it. It was a sort of half cartwheel flip combination. So far he had fallen fifteen times. However his last try had him completing the cartwheel part so he wasn't giving up lightly.

A rough push the next time he was in the air had him sprawled on the floor.

"If you're gonna try that then you need to bend your arms more." It was Mary. "It gives you more of a spring to get into the air."

"You're not going to tell me not to do it?" he asked, to which she threw her head back and laughed.

"Would you listen to me? The least I can do is make sure you do it properly." She helped him up and pushed him to try again.

He almost had it when Eleanor came for her bath, and was disappointed he had to spend the next two hours cleaning. Eleanor greeted Mary excitedly, who offered to stay and help. Bruce said no, on the basis he didn't want to upset the baby. She still ended up helping.

"What are you doing over here anyway? Not that you can't be here, its just I haven't seen you in these parts," he stumbled around.

"I came to find you. John's always making me sit and do nothing all day, so I thought I would go for a walk. I remembered you halfway over here and figured it would make good parenting practice." Bruce didn't know whether to be flattered or offended she considered him a child. "Now I have a reason to come over here. That is if you want to learn more tricks?"

"Seriously?"

She grinned at his enthusiasm. "Why not. It'll keep me busy and off my toes. John has nothing to worry about, and I get to torture you."

The sincerity in which she said torture made Bruce have second thoughts. He barely got the hang of that last move and was bruised all over.

"Sounds good."

He soon regretted his words. After cleaning the animals Mary would come and take him to a clear part of wherever they were staying. From there he learned to stand on his head, flip, and do a variety of other tricks that left him unable to do more than shuffle on a morning.

Despite her nice exterior Mary was a harsh teacher. She didn't let Bruce get off easy and set a target every lesson he had to fulfil or she would make their lessons longer the next day. Two months in, and Bruce grew to love her teaching. It meant he didn't slack off and actually got better every time he tried another move.

Three months in and she could no longer push him around. That didn't stop her from shouting louder. Loud enough that he had a small audience by the end of the afternoon. Even if they did just come to hear Mary yell at him, he enjoyed being able to show off a move he did right in front of them. It was proof of his accomplishment.

Bruce ended up spending most of his time with Mary. If he wasn't practising with her he was fetching things and helping her get from her tent to wherever she wanted to go. He enjoyed listening to her coo over the baby. She already told Bruce he was a born performer. Doing somersaults and stretching at all hours of the day or night. When her water finally broke Bruce was just as excited as she was to meet the little guy.

Named Richard the boy was the most adorable thing Bruce had ever seen.

Two months after having the little guy Bruce thought that would be the end of his little practices with her. She was back training with the rest of her family for the big top and as far as Bruce was concerned she had no time for him. He was proved wrong when John came strolling over with baby Dick in his arms.

"Mary wants you to come watch us."

With nothing better to do he went with him. He hadn't spent much time around John. Mainly because the man wasn't bored and needed someone to alleviate it. Inside the tent Mary waved from her perch and gestured to her husband.

"You wouldn't mind looking after little Dickie would you?"

"Sure."

He spent their practice session pointing out all the tricks Mary had taught him to Dick. Not knowing that his role from companion had already been changed to babysitter.

By the time Dick learned to walk Bruce and he were best friends. He would come and play with him on afternoons and sit in the stands during performances with Dick gurgling on his lap. Mary had been right, that Dick was a natural performer. The first time he tried supporting his own weight he tumbled face first into a somersault and blinked wide eyed up at John when he was done. Walking was more of a success and as soon as he could John dragged the pair of them into the ring.

"Don't say you didn't see this coming," Mary grinned, and made sure Bruce still knew how to do a few moves.

At two years old Dick still had to sit on the sidelines but Bruce was given his first costume for the next show.

"Are you sure?" Bruce asked looking at himself in the mirror.

"Yes we're sure. You're practically a Grayson already. Lord knows you spend more time with Dick than I do most days," John grinned.

"If you're nervous about going out there just remember that no one will really be looking at you individually," Mary chimed.

"Oh and if you do fall do it with a bit of flourish. Make everything part of the act is what Dad taught me." Despite John's words of comfort Bruce didn't feel much better.

Little Dickie was sitting behind the scenes tonight. Jimmy had spent the better half of the first act showing Dick his trick flower to which the boy could watch for hours. Finally Jimmy was called on and Dick took his place on Mary's lap retelling what they had all just seen. Bruce let the innocent words fill him up. Make him forget that Jimmy was the last act before them. It worked until The Flying Graysons were called and he was told to smile.

The crowd was huge. Almost all seats filled as Bruce did the first circuit. After that they were up in the air. The crowd had thankfully gone silent as they made their way up. It actually helped Bruce visualize there was no one there and collect himself for when he flew over the big top to Uncle Ray's waiting hands. The first leap was truthfully the hardest but after that Bruce let himself go and enjoyed the rush of defying gravity. Later he recalled all of his father's advice when he was a child for dealing with crowds. 'Don't let them intimidate you. All they want is a story, something to see.' After that Bruce no longer had any trouble in front of crowds.

Sometimes he would join Mary and John on the high ropes and other times he would accompany the other acrobats with the animals. Bruce found it was much more fun performing with them than cleaning them out and as Dick turned three, then four, he introduced the kid to Eleanor and her friends. Naturally Bruce found him near her carriage most days after that and the two of them would help out the handlers with the odd chore or two.

When Dick was nine they stopped in Gotham. It wasn't the first time they had come into the city to perform and usually when they did Bruce begged out of all shows that week. This time was no different. Trading his sequin shirt for an elephant stained one didn't bother him in Gotham. Not when he had more important things to do such as look out for a certain family. Specifically Kal.

Rumours had started years ago and only grew until it was a known fact that there were aliens among them. One of those beings named Clark or 'Superman' had made it his sworn duty to protect those in need. Bruce would have been impressed were it not for the fact he had grown up with Kal. Sure, he had gained a few more powers over the years but that just made him more dangerous. So far his territory stretched from Gotham to Metropolis. The way Bruce looked at it pretty soon he wouldn't be able to perform anywhere in fear of being caught. While he did miss Alfred his mind was still set. He wasn't going back there. As far as he was concerned they could have everything. He was happier here than he had ever been in that manor.

"Mom said I can join in tonight," Dick crowed.

Bruce smirked from his seat on Eleanor's carriage "Did she now?"

"Yep. I'm finally getting my wings," he made a few bird motions "So you'll have to be there as well," he insisted.

Bruce cringed. "Sorry Robin, you know I always sit these ones out."

"But it's my début," he pouted.

"And I'll watch it with the biggest smile on my face," Bruce promised.

Dick stomped off and after a few seconds watching him Bruce followed. "I don't get why you always sit these ones out. Mom said you used to live here, but shouldn't that be a reason to perform? Show them how great you are?"

"It's not that simple. If someone recognized me here... I don't think I could still perform with you." He would be followed and then they would come for him.

Dick considered that for a while. "I guess if they're gonna take you away you can sit this one out. You have to promise though that we're gonna fly together in Coast City."

Bruce made the solemn oath of a pinkie promise and went with Dick to prepare for the night.

He left the boy primping in his tent to get a good seat for the beginning of the acts. Even after nine years Haly still made his circus a thing worth watching. Everyone was pulling out the big guns. Jimmy was extra funny and the tigers didn't miss a beat. Eleanor had never looked better and the Graysons looked every bit the head-liner they promised to be.

Bruce waited with anticipation as John grabbed Mary. The rest of the family already on the other ropes and doing their best to earn their applause. With another effortless swing Mary flipped through the air so John could grab her ankles. It put her in the best position to catch Dick. Bruce could see the pride on the little boy's face. The glee as his mother came towards him and the horror as the first rope snapped.

One, then two and a mass of bodies started falling to the floor. Normally this would be fine. An accident could happen at any time and there were contingencies for everything. The only thing was that this was a Gotham show. Everything was risky, dangerous and brilliant. Which meant that there was nothing underneath the Graysons when they fell.


	2. Chapter 2

The shock broke when Dick screamed. Bruce wasted no time in hopping over the barrier separating the audience and performers. He knew without looking that all of them were dead and there was nothing he could do. However Dick was alive and needed someone now more than ever.

He had to carry the boy down. Covering his eyes against more of the grisly scene as they went backstage. The police were called as well as an ambulance. All the while Dick clutched onto him.

Bruce had to leave when Mr Haly popped his head in "GCPD," was all he said and it was all the warning Bruce needed.

"I'm going to go get your elephant. The police are coming in to ask you a couple of questions alright. Answer if you can but if you can't its alright." He hugged the boy one more time and ran to get Dick's toy.

Returning to the scene the GCPD had taken up most of the room. Dick sat with Mr Haly and answered what he could around his sobs. He was mid way explaining the fall when something red streaked in. The GCPD didn't blink twice at the new arrival as they were most likely used to seeing him by now. Bruce on the other hand unconsciously sank further into the shadows.

It was Kal in all his Kryptonian glory. Brandishing a cape and his house sigil, Kal had grown to resemble Jor more than Bruce thought he would. The black hair and alien blues sat comfortably on a chiselled face, and when Bruce looked lower he could only glower at the physique Kal sported. No doubt he hadn't had to work hard to get that body.

"I came as soon as I could. There was a fire down town and- hey, don't acrobats usually have a net underneath them?" His voice was out of place in grieving room. All warmth and smiles he crouched in front of Dick and held his hand out. "My name's Clark. It's nice to meet you. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"You're Superman," Dick mumbled and looked over his shoulder as if to find Bruce.

During the years the boy had delighted in tormenting Bruce with updates on his hero, knowing full well that he didn't care for the man in the slightest. The fact he was trying to cheer himself up made Bruce's heart ache. He wished he could give Dick this alleviation and he would have if it were just the cops. Kal changed things.

"I am," He turned back to the officers "Do you want to catch me up?"

Gordon took the reigns and went over the night's tragedy. Almost to the end of his tale Dick finally found his voice again. "It's all my fault," He choked. It wasn't what Bruce thought he would hear and not what the cops needed too tonight.

Kal took his kneeling position again "How's that then?"

"There was a man," Dick looked to Mr Haly. The man was suspiciously quiet and turning an off colour as Dick went on "He came out of Mr Haly's tent and was upset because Mr Haly wasn't going to pay him. He said that the circus needed protection and that without it something bad would happen. He said something would happen and it has," Dick beseeched.

All attention went to Mr Haly after that. Dick's part done he had nothing more to do than sit there and wait. The questions ranged from who the man was and what he wanted to whether anyone else had seen him that night.

Bruce kept an eye on Kal throughout the whole proceeding. He looked harmless and sincere as he offered help to the GCPD and while Bruce didn't care for it Kal's presence was keeping Dick calm.

"You'll find him right?" he asked.

"I promise I will do everything I can to help you," Kal said before vanishing in a blur of red.

After Kal left the GCPD started clearing up. Gordon waited as his team filed out, and the why became clear when a woman strolled into the tent.

"A car will be coming to pick Mr Grayson up in three hours," She announced. "Make sure he has all of his belongings."

"Car?" Bruce asked. He didn't care about revealing himself now.

The woman nodded "To take him to an orphanage. Whilst the case is still open we will be needing Mr Grayson available and near by."

"You can't take him," Mr Haly protested.

"And why is that. All of his kin are in the ring. Besides this isn't really the right environment to be bringing up a child," She sniffed.

Mr Haly shot a quick look at Bruce "All of his kin aren't dead. There's him isn't there."

"And who exactly are you?" She looked like she wouldn't believe a word Bruce said anyway so he figured he may as well lie.

Especially when he looked at Dick. The boy had been sat through this latest revelation with muted horror. "I'm Bruce Loyd. Mary's younger brother.

"She smirked thinking she had him. "And if that's true then why wait until now to reveal yourself? Shouldn't you have given your statement to the police or even been out there with the rest of your family?"

"I sat out- tummy bug. I was watching in the stands when it happened," He shrugged. "I saw what everyone else did and figured the police didn't need another repeat of the hundreds of similar stories."

"Do you have any proof of relation?" The sour look her face took meant that Bruce's tale was somewhat believable.

"Not really but no one else does around here," He argued. "Look, all I know is that you're not taking my little brother away. This is our home."

Gordon stepped in "Regardless of that fact we do still need him on hand." He appealed to Mr Haly "Perhaps you could delay your stay a while?"

Mr Haly shook his head "Other than the funeral we don't want to stay here any longer than we have to. It's a bad omen for the other folk."

Gordon sucked his teeth "In that case the GCPD will enquire about hotels. See if we can get the two of you set up for a while. I'm sure you can arrange to meet back up when this is all finished?"

Bruce looked back at Haly who nodded then at Dick who pleaded silently with him. "You promise you won't take him away?"

Gordon shook his head even as the woman scoffed in disgust "As long as you're legal we can get the documentation at the court house to make you his guardian. He won't be taken awa-"

A phone rang in the midst of Gordon's reassurance. The woman took her cell out, holding a finger up. Bruce couldn't help feeling like the silver lining they had been given was being slowly taken away with every moment she listened to the caller.

He was proven right when she took Gordon aside and came in with a satisfied grin on her face.

"Change of plan. That was the Waynes, they saw what happened here and want to take the boy in for a while. We already have their files on record after the other Wayne case, which means they're coming to pick him up."

He knew. That was the only thing Bruce could think. Somehow, Kal had seen him and was coming to get him. Why else would they have an interest in Dick.

Any argument he had against this happening however, was fruitless since the woman strode out as soon as he found the words. Dick was crawling into his lap, tears threatening to fall again as he looked for comfort.

Bruce took them to collect their stuff. He wasn't letting them go with Jor. But they couldn't stay here either. They needed to move, and fast. Bruce made Dick sort through his things fast and outside, since going in would only upset him more. Once packed they did a final circuit of the circus. A goodbye tour to all of their friends.

"We're coming back," Bruce promised. "This is my home as much as it is yours."

"I know," Dick clutched onto his hand tighter "It just doesn't feel like it anymore."

He got them to the nearest mall before they were caught. Kal must have went on the hunt for them when he found out they had ran off. He was clad in his cape and tights as he landed in front of them, so bright in the alley behind the mall. No hint of recognition gleamed in his eyes as he held his hand out.

"Hand the boy over."

He felt Dick cling tight to his shoulders, shaking slightly from both everything that had happened, and not wanting to be separated. He clutched Dick briefly, telling him he wasn't letting go of him.

So he ran. It was stupid. He knew Kal could catch him in an instant, but he wasn't thinking straight himself and the only thought that came was to leg it.

True enough Kal appeared in his way every direction he went. In the end it seemed he didn't want to keep asking nicely and pried Dick away from him by force. One moment Bruce was sprinting up to the next alley and the next he was slamming into its wall empty handed.

The air went out of his lungs as his face scraped against the rough cement. He was bleeding, that much he did know. His chest was also stinging familiarly, something was broken, he recognised it from his many tumbles from the circus.

His ears were ringing, yet even through the noise he could hear Dick screaming. Until he wasn't. Some part of him told him that Kal had taken the boy. But right now all he could think was about his broken ribs.

He didn't know how long he lay there. It got dark at some point. He remembered feeling someone pass him by. Another, and his face got stomped in further as they stole anything valuable he had on him.

When he came around again it was because someone flung something on top of him. The passer-by was gone almost as soon as they came leaving Bruce still in pain but awake.

What had landed on top of him turned out to be a newspaper. When he saw the date at the top he nearly passed out again. He had been out for three days, and a lot had happened.

The first thing that caught his eye was the picture on the front. On it were the El's. Jor and Lara didn't look like they had aged a day. Kal was standing proud next to them with his hand firmly on Dick's shoulder. The boy was primp in a suit, his hair slicked back in a way Bruce had never seen it before. He looked awful. Not outwardly. But the boy had just lost his family. Bruce recognised that look in his eyes, having seen it in his own for years.

The headline read worse than the picture did. It turned out they had went one better, while Bruce was out of action, and, instead of just taking him in, they had adopted him.

"No." It seemed like the only thing he could say right then.

He couldn't believe he had let this happen. Let that pen touch paper. He was meant to protect Dick, not leave him to suffer at the El's hands. He should have took Dick before the GCPD even got there.

Not that it mattered now. They had him. Poor little Dick who was probably being herded into a limo for some reason or another. The last thing he had in this world, and he was gone. Some part of his mind tried to make light of the situation. Dick would never have to want for anything anymore. He would have wealthy and fame beyond anything the circus could give him.

He spat out the days old blood in his mouth, wiping his eyes from who knew what so he could see his surroundings. Seeing Dick had given him the boost he needed to get up. Or at least try. It took several attempts, and use of the wall next to him for hand holds to help him stand and put one foot in front of the other. He couldn't leave Dick with them. He couldn't let them keep ruining his life.

So he needed to get a phone. Or at least find out where he was. From experience he knew the people of Gotham wouldn't help him. So he needed to, either, steal or get to a payphone. Maybe pick pocket some loose change while he was at it. If only his hands weren't stinging. He didn't know how he did it, but eventually he found someone who could help him.

They drove him to Leslie's clinic, where the woman spent more time gushing and shouting at him than patching him up. Bruce gave the best explanation he could through swollen lips, and managed to stop her from calling Alfred.

Once he was patched up, he didn't want to outstay his welcome, or worse, be discovered, and said his goodbyes. He promised to call Alfred as he limped out.

He snagged another newspaper as he made his way to Wayne Enterprises. The whole article went through the specifics of what had happened. They painted the Waynes as a generous family. One trying to rekindle that family they had lost when Bruce was 'kidnapped' years ago.

It sent a string of hate to his heart as he looked at their smiling faces. They had no idea...

He ended up climbing, the hard way, to the top of Wayne Enterprises. It was familiar, his, and he had hidden a few things up here when he was a child at his father's work. His old bear was there. Left behind when he had overheard his mother threatening to take it away from him. Just because she thought he was 'too old' didn't mean he was. So he had told her it had went missing. Along with other things he had almost forgotten about. Some books, largely outdated snacks, and, most importantly, an old tent his father had given him. They had came up here to look at the stars one night. It turned out it was impossible to see them this far into the city so they had spent the night indoors playing hide and seek. The tent had been left on the roof, his father had said he would send someone to fetch it, it looked like he never had.

Just seeing all this brought back memories he had long repressed. His mother. Father. His life before all this. He ended up crying as the grief of losing not just one but two families caught up with him. He had finally been happy. Yet, once again, Gotham couldn't leave him be. He felt like he was being punished for something. What? He didn't know, and now Dick would have to share in his grief. Stuck in a house with people who couldn't possibly understand him.

His hate for the El's surfaced again. Kal had pushed him into a wall. Broke his ribs and bloodied his face. He was going to make sure he paid for that. As he huddled in the tiny tent, away from the cold smog of Gotham his brain seemed to switch itself on. Plans long buried, like the memories of his parents, came surfacing along with new ones. He was going to get his life back. He was going to make sure Dick was safe. Of that he was certain.

The next week was something of a recovery. His ribs and look overall meant he couldn't go long distances or inside most places. He knew from experience he needed to rest. But with no place to go, and not wanting to abandon Dick for the comfort of his tent at Haly's he had to find an alternative. People had started checking on Wayne Enterprises rooftop after Bruce had, accidentally, tripped their alarm.

After being chased out he had started sleeping in doorways. When he tired of that, he remembered the countless abandoned warehouses at the docks and tried to figure out which were just abandoned and which were mob ruled. That took three nights and two almost confrontations.

He eventually found one of his own Warehouses. W. E was emblazoned on the top, the inside quite well kept for something that had been abandoned for five years. He took the managers office for a bedroom. By the end of the week it looked like something a serial killer would live in rather than a recovering acrobat. He had pilfered each days newspapers as they came. He had a mural of faces plastered over the office wall, staring out at him as he paced his pain away to think.

So far, his plan to take down the El's had boiled down to two things. The first was that he wasn't the first to try. The second was that, no matter what he read, or remembered from his time with them, he couldn't find any weaknesses.

Gotham had changed since he had been there. Men and woman, more evil and twisted than he had ever imagined, now roamed the streets. Some of them had come close to twisting Superman to their will, however none had managed to kill him, or even harm him.

His conclusion from all this was that he needed to find a way to get that weakness.

The third week he stayed in Gotham he was well enough to pick pocket. Some money in his pocket meant he could feed himself lawfully, as well as buy some clothes that would allow him into the basic buildings he needed to survive, like the public rest room.

He was shopping for something to eat when he saw Superman again. The red cape stood out like a torch in a dark room. It streaked across the dark sky of mid morning Gotham, following the wail of sirens. He didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to follow them.

The scene he arrived at was a fire at a hospital. Superman was almost finished by the time he got there. The fire was out, leaving only smoke dwindling out the windows. Everyone in danger was safely outside, and before Bruce could blink he saw most of them be rushed back inside by a red blur.

What really had his attention was none of this. Instead, he watched as the police herded someone kicking and screaming into a white van. He was dressed like some kind of fly, complete with wings, and was yelling profanities to Superman.

Despite his odd attire, he seemed like someone Bruce might like to get to know. Not to mention he had gave Bruce an idea.

Back in his office he researched as much as he could about those villains he had breezed over in his catch up. He went to the library to use their computers. Reading up on their crimes and M.O. Some of them were quite boring, being first time serial offenders under the influence of the big crime syndicates. Others however, had Bruce looking into them for hours.

It took three days to come up with a plan from that. Another to hash out the small details. Then another to get over what he stumbled upon when he was looking through the paper that day.

Having been focused on looking at Dick and the more unsavoury people in Gotham he had looked over the rest of the paper. He wished he hadn't now.

Dick must have told them, somehow, that the man they pried him from was Bruce. He dug through the other papers he had to find only three similar articles, all of them asking whether the general public had seen him. It didn't look good to the Waynes that the articles had only started three days ago. They had starved off from looking for him for three weeks. He was both worried and wondering what they had been doing between then and now that meant they needed the media to help.

There was a picture of him from yesterday, alongside one of him at fifteen. Right now, there was no one in Gotham that wouldn't know he was back. This hurt his chances of keeping a low profile.

It dawned on him then that he couldn't continue like this. He didn't want to mar his image. His image was all that was left of his family's legacy. If he ended up getting arrested, or worse, killed, he didn't want to be remembered as a criminal. He couldn't do that to his parents. He also couldn't be labelled a criminal if his plan did work. If he managed to rid the world of the El's he didn't want to constantly be on the run, he couldn't do that to Dick.

There was only one thing for it. He needed a disguise.

He found one after a moment of inspiration. He had been trailing along the rich part of Gotham, thinking about seeing Dick but not wanting to be trapped in that manor. His hood was up, and even if it wasn't his face was so mottled with bruises it was hard to believe he was Bruce Wayne and not a homeless wandering man.

He ended up on his front as something going faster than the speed of sound flew past him. He growled as he regained his footing, glaring after Kal even if he was long gone.

That's it! He decided, if he was going to get his revenge he may as well start somewhere. He was going to steal Kal's suit. See how long it took him to find another one.

It was a stupid bit of petty revenge. Much different to the wide expansive plan he had going on. It was almost like the time Kal got his strength in the middle of a play fight. Well, Bruce had been fighting him for real, Kal was laughing the whole time until he flung Bruce into a wall. He had spent the time after that testing Kal's strength as much as he could. Alfred ended up putting an end to his experimenting when he tried to drop a piano on Kal.

He couldn't help be childish when it came to Kal. He just irked him. Along with many other feelings of annoyance and hate that came with it.

Breaking in to Wayne Manor was easy. The El's didn't need security with all their powers, which meant Bruce could just scale the gate. He used the servants entrance to get in, and with a combination of years living in this place and hidden passageways he searched the house for Kal's room.

It turned out Kal had moved. Something which sent a flare of red to his eyes. He had taken over Bruce's old room. His things were still there, which was quite confusing. His bookcase and sketchbooks were still next to the window. Nothing new had been added there. Instead another bookcase had been added, along with a desk filled with sheet upon sheet of paper. Curiosity had him looking through them, what he found were reports. Not only reports but articles. With his name on. Kal was writing for the Daily Planet.

Didn't people wonder how he got to work on time? Raced through his head as he looked at his own face staring back at him.

Well this answered... nothing.

Mind saving this information for later Bruce went back on the search. The wardrobe was clear, which was actually a good thing. Even if Bruce was there to steal it, to find it so easily would be just sad.

He went out, stopping as he spotted the folded pyjama's in the room opposite. They were a child's size. Dick.

The boy wasn't in. No doubt the El's had him doing some kind of photo op. Bruce's heart felt heavy as he looked around the empty room. He should have came earlier. He should have came as soon as he was able to move and broke in to take Dick away.

He could always wait until they came home to take him. But he doubted he could get out without being seen. No, it was better to stick to the plan and take Dick when there was no chance they could come after them.

So he moved on. He searched any other hidden rooms Kal might have thought to hide his suit in. He looked behind the portrait, he looked in the library's secret room, he even looked in Alfred's room. Nothing.

It was a door slamming some floors down that had Bruce starting. He had always known the chances of getting caught were there but now it was actually happening. He darted over to his father's study. If they knew he was there he could lose them in the cave system.

He dove in to his father's study easily, how many times he had wished it to be unlocked as a child... He ran down the steps to the cave, stopping when he had another shock.

The dim shadows of the cave disappeared as a horde of lights beamed down on him. He blinked for what felt like ages before his eyes adjusted. When they did he was greeted with what could only be described as Superman's hideout. There were newspaper clippings on one board, almost the same as the one Bruce had in his warehouse. A computer system he was itching to get his hands on lay embedded into one of the cave walls. Among all this was the gem of it all in a glass case. Superman's suit. He didn't even stop to erase all the security as he opened the case and snagged the cape and tights. Unsurprisingly there were no alarms here either. Before he defeated Kal he was going to give him a lecture on security.

The suit was hard to hide as he ran away from the manor and back to his side of Gotham. He ended up bundling it all in the cape and walking around like it was a normal thing for someone to carry. He was surprised he got to his warehouse without being stopped.

He sacrificed buying food in favour of stealing it so he could buy spray paint instead. He took great satisfaction in demolishing the 'S' on the chest. Even if it could still be seen if he turned a specific way it was gone, and Bruce grinned as he hung it up.

Done with that he moved on to his actual plan. Arkham.

He remembered Arkham, it had been re-opening when he left. He remembered Jor taking him to W.E. On the weekends and asking about the files Thomas Wayne had on the place. He remembered looking into the files, reading about the past patients and reason for its closure. It hadn't been anything drastic, just the fact it was too old fashioned for modern medical institutions to keep open.

Jor had been fascinated with it. Before stumbling on it he had been primarily focused on advancing Earth's scientific realm. He didn't like the idea of something similar happening to Earth like it had on Krypton- if that had actually happened that is. After the files discovery however, he had started looking in to Earth psychology.

That was around the time Bruce had been put under scrutiny.

It was also twelve years ago. Since then Arkham had re-opened and housed a kind of people the founders would have never thought existed.

It was situated on an island, with only one way on by car and surrounded by water everywhere else. It was the perfect place to house an insane asylum. They hadn't changed much, he thought looking at it. It as like something from his nightmares, and he should know, he'd had a lot of them. Hundred year old ivy climbed up the grimy black walls. The main house, where doctors and security guards stayed if they needed to stay poked out the back of the asylum. The schematics, he remembered, triangulated the asylum manor and botanical gardens at the back, there was a wide open plain separating all of them, meaning if he got caught it was a short run and he could sneak into one of the other buildings.

But first he needed to break in. The windows were barred, and from some stolen research, electrified in places. The doors had fingerprint and full body scanners along with keypads and actual keys to keep people both in or out. Still, there was always a way in.

It turned out that the way in was the same way he got in to Wayne Manor: the servants entrance. All manors had them, and Arkham was no different. He found it to the side. A lone door, unlocked and leading into a changing room. He took a bus boy's uniform, changing and repressing the sigh of relief at finally wearing new clothes.

The manor was bustling with life when he ventured in. Doctors and security guards were roaming the halls with files and guns tucked under their arms. It all spoke of a change in shift, and soon. He really was in luck. Blending in was no trouble. Servants were invisible, overlooked, and he was no different.

It was too easy to do a full sweep of the manor. There was no way in to the asylum through the manor, he made sure to check everywhere- even the secret passages he remembered for later.

So he went to plan B. He went into the nearest bedroom and stole the extra security card in there. It was a security guards, it was made better when he found a spare suit to change in to. It would at least get him through the front door.

Which it did. The next few doors relied on ever changing guards and computer hacking. His luck held and found him in the lower levels of Arkham in under an hour. He bumped the guard out of his booth with the pretence or checking up on a specific patient. It wasn't a complete lie, and the guard wanted an excuse to stretch his legs anyway. A few more hacks, something he would have to refine to a faster pace in future, and he was strolling down a quite frightening corridor.

Many of the patients had hurled insults at him when he first entered the patient wing. It seemed no one was well liked in this place. But that was there, with patients who were just difficult because they were afraid and lashing out.

These patients in front of him were not afraid. They looked him in the eye as he passed, some of them speaking threats he knew they would keep.

He stopped when he saw a sign pointing to a door leading to a patient called 'Killer Croc.' From what he remembered that way led to a new wing, not a cell. What kind of patient needed a wing all to himself?

He shook it off, he wasn't here for him.

The patients were ranked from least difficult to most. The ones he passed now were still considered least. He could see why as he continued. One patient was practically foaming at the mouth, Bruce tried not to make eye contact.

Finally, after what felt like a walk through his mind , he came to who he wanted to see.

The man was ghostly pale, like any colour he used to have was drained out of him and used to accentuate his other features. His mouth was a blood red sneer as he glanced up at Bruce behind the glass. The brief flash of his eyes told Bruce he had come to the right man. There was true danger there, and he would need danger if he was going to pull his plan off.

He had already catalogued the cameras when he strolled over, there were three of them, all pointing too and from the main cage. He knew there was no sound- who would want to listen to people scream all day- and so long as he kept his head down and angled a certain way he could keep himself, and his purposes here a secret.

He spared a look at the mans cell. The rumpled bed. The sparse belongings. The straight-jacket. That could have been him if he had stayed in Gotham. A frightening thought. More terrifying than the man playing solitaire with his teeth.

He started his persuasion.

Surprisingly, he was easy to convince. A low throaty chuckle, and a "There's something unhinged about you. I should know I see it in myself every day." and he had a new best friend.

The others were easy to convince as well. By the time he sneaked out, he hadn't spent more than five minutes talking to one person, and no alarms had been raised. Arkham really needed to update their security.

He went back to his warehouse that night to work on his disguise. The red cape was the only thing still bright when he went to bed that night.

He didn't sleep well. He didn't sleep more than a few hours actually for a week. Not until he picked up a newspaper announcing the four inmate breakouts he wanted.

After that, the police were everywhere. Hourly patrols passed any open or shady area in Gotham. His hood was always up when he went out now. Despite the fact his face hadn't frequented a front page since the first inmate break out, he didn't trust the people of Gotham not to remember his face. Mostly because Kal had attached a reward to anyone with information about him.

The heat on the villains died down after a week. The police, instead of hoping they would randomly stumble on them, had started looking into past known hideouts.

If only they knew the villains had stayed in other villains hideouts. It had been Bruce's idea. A way to throw the police off the scent.

That Wednesday he journeyed over to the Riddler's underground speak easy. He had managed to persuade the Riddler to tell him how to disable to booby-traps before he left Arkham. Any other time he would have broke Nygma out too, however he didn't' have the expertise Bruce needed for his venture. The others were all inside, it was where they had scheduled to meet.

He had managed to keep his face hidden in all of his encounters, sticking to the shadows or keeping his cap low over his face. This time he had borrowed one of Nygma's masks, and kept his hood up as he joined the poker game they were playing.

He had imagined without glass, he would feel terrified. At least a little afraid. Quite the opposite was true. He felt calm around these people, like he understood them. He supposed, in a way, he did, he too wanted to destroy Superman.

They dealt out another hand of cards before getting to work. They plotted for hours, each of them going off on tangents as their rage interfered with their intelligence. Bruce made sure to reign them In when they got to that point. He needed to keep their damage to a minimum, and concentrated on Kal.

He left them to set up on their own around two. He had somewhere else to be after all.

The bus for someone unemployed and homeless was too expensive. Thankfully, he wasn't above walking, even if it took hours. The bridge was a long stretch of darkness. Sole cars ventured back and forth, lighting him up with headlights every now and then. That all stopped when he got halfway across. It was a blast of light that blinded him momentarily as his eyes adjusted.

Metropolis. It was like the moon against Gotham's murky night. He felt exposed despite his hood being up and his face still covered in fading bruises. The people looked at him as well. They didn't keep their heads down and walk fast like they were afraid he was going to jump him. These people were actually happy as they stopped to say hello to him.

It took him twice as long to figure out where he was going in Metropolis because the people were so nice. They offered to take him there himself, to which Bruce ended up sneaking off when they were talking about the sights of Metropolis.

He managed to get a neighbour to let him into the building. The stairwell led him up to the last floor before the penthouse. Being a rich boy meant he knew the perfect way to get there. All it took was a bathroom emergency, a kind old woman and sneaking out her window to the fire escape.

The lights were on when he breached the last ladder step. Bruce had never really been one for the playboy lifestyle, having more intellectual things to focus on. Still, living in the circus had meant he was around naked and near naked girls a good amount of the time. So seeing, what had to be a party, with many of those things didn't exactly shock him.

What shocked them, on the other hand, was the power box he found after a quick outside circuit of the suite. One quick flick and the lights went out. He repressed the giggle at the screams. It was a power outage, surely they had experienced the dark before. Then again, this was Metropolis, even when it was dark there was a light somewhere, which was proven by the blinding streetlights that illuminated the room like any light would.

The screams died down to playful giggles as a man stepped out onto the balcony. Composed and waving off their offers to come with him Lex Luthor didn't bother looking around for the fuse box, instead, he leaned himself up against his balcony.

The last time Bruce had seen Lex was when they were thrown together at a fundraiser. He was thirteen, he recalled, Lex sixteen. His parents had taken Jor and Lara away immediately for talks and Bruce, not wanting to entertain Kal that night, had slipped away under a table. Luthor had found him immediately, and surprised him with not giving his position away. He ended up taking a deck of cards from his pocket and teaching Bruce some blackjack for the rest of the night.

He wasn't sixteen anymore. He had filled in to his shoulders, and his baldness. He wore it with dignity, his back straight and an air of confidence he hadn't had the last time they had met. His suit was rumpled, but other than that he was as polished as any business man.

Even when Bruce dropped down next to him.

"I was wondering whether I would be paid a visit," Lex started, turning to greet him.

Lex was an interesting man, Bruce knew that just by looking at him. Even with his disguise Bruce had the feeling Lex knew exactly who he was talking too. He didn't shy away from him, didn't greet him as a friend. It was like a business transaction, which was exactly what it was. Even if it was illegal. He also knew that Lex wouldn't out him. Those eyes told him everything about his deals, even if he was under torture he would keep Bruce to himself. It was in his own interest after all, which was what only motivated him.

With that in mind Bruce relaxed himself and looked out over Metropolis. "You're key to taking him down."

'He' didn't need to be specified, they only had one common enemy.

A chuckle escaped Lex's mouth, with a "We don't have long," and a pointed glance towards his muffled giggling window they got down to business.

They concluded after a few minutes. Lex was difficult, yet he wanted the same thing as Bruce and eventually agreed to what he wanted. Just in time too, since as soon as he hopped back towards the fuse box a girl sidled out asking for Lex.

The walk back to Gotham was like losing his sight. The lights dimmed and the air clogged as Gotham's smoky fumes entered his system. It seemed he wasn't the only one returning from Metropolis as he saw something bright light up the shadowy highway.

Kal had found a new suit. It was exactly like his old one, except he was missing a cape. Bruce had never seen him properly in his suit, just flashes as he ran past or blinked into existence in front of him. Now was no different. The only reason he knew Kal was missing his cape was because the blurred image was more blue than red. Thankfully Bruce didn't see any clearer images as Kal flew past now.

It still didn't stop the well of resentment that rose up as he saw him however. He was going home to Dick. To Alfred. To his house and his life. Something Bruce would never have until he got rid of Kal.

He went back to his Warehouse that night with a grim satisfaction at the thought that he only had to wait a few days. A few days and he could make his dream a reality.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know it's been a while. I was away for two months in a different country. But I'm back now, so enjoy a new chapter. Hope you like it.

His fists pounded on the glass in front of him, the skin finally breaking under the onslaught. He screamed both in frustration and pain, cursing his onlookers as he retreated as far as he could in the see-through cylinder.

His wrists weren't that bad. A few scrapes and skin that would bruise up around the scratches in a few hours but nothing too serious. Which was more than he could say for himself. He was in a serious situation. One he should have prepared for, but really, there was no way his plan could have possibly gone wrong. No damn way. Yet it did.

The plan had been simple: On Monday he waited on top of Wayne Enterprises, watching as street after street lit up in some horror or another.

The North was aflame with green. Green smoke, green graffiti, quite frankly it was hard to see anything more than that. He could still hear though, and what he heard had him shuddering slightly. At first it had just been the Joker. That man had sent up his war cry as soon as the first smoke bomb went off. A ringing echo of laughter soon followed until the whole North was cackling and screaming like madmen. Worse actually since he had actually visited Arkham, and they weren't half as bad as this.

The smoke faded as it came to the East. Bruce observed as a new wave floated through the wind, the tendrils twining and fading until he could see through to the city below, and were finally sucked up by the plants breathing them in. Plants were a small description as to what grew in these streets, really it was more like a jungle than a few flowers here and there.

Great vines twined and twisted their way through windows and doorways, some holding people hostage while the others were happy to lie in wait for the few stragglers that had escaped their initial attack. Criss-crossing through them were flowers of every origin Bruce could think of. Now he was no botanist, but he was sure more than half of those plants weren't meant to be this size. Nor were they meant to be in Gotham at all. He had to pleasure of watching someone prick themselves on one oversized thorn. They lay under a mass of green now, their corpse being slowly digested by other plants, and he was sure that wasn't the only plant that was poisonous in this forest. He was pretty sure Gotham's laws said something about poisonous plants being prohibited on their shores. He was pretty sure that was the same for the whole of America. Yet here they were, right in front of his eyes, and their mother somewhere at the heart of it all.

The jungle lasted until it hit the Southern streets. There they died off or shrunk back like they had smelled something nasty. Those that didn't wither away seemed even more ill tempered than the others. More than one had ripped their victim's apart, limb from limb they were flung and tossed into piles. An disorganised mess. A curiosity that had the smart part of Bruce's brain itching with curiosity at the logic behind their thought process. Especially because the gas in which was causing them to act this way was meant to leave them an disorganised mess.

It was a deep brown, reminding Bruce of the time Alfred had attempted to teach him to bake. Kal had been there too, sitting on the counter and watching with patient eyes as Alfred told him what this or that was. The whole thing had Bruce bored out of his brain, and not watching where he was putting his hands. The result had been cocoa and sugar flying everywhere, rising up in a cloud of darkness that now littered the streets of Gotham.

It was a different kind of screaming coming from this part of town. Bruce had kept his berth as the smoke rose. The madness he thought he could handle. The fear on the other hand. He had been scared the moment he realised what a helpless world he lived in, and wasn't ready to relive any of his fears if he could help it right now.

The last part of Gotham was quiet. Unnervingly quiet. The streets were empty, the doors open like people had just walked out without any afterthought to their homes. A mass crowd had gathered outside the mall. Bruce knew because he could see the glint as sunlight bounced off people's watches and glasses. He could also see the sea of purple, as those that had gathered were wearing the same unscramble on their heads.

He had broke Hatter out in the first place for his gas. Like Scarecrow and the Joker he had managed to come up with a formula strong enough to affect a Kryptonian. But he had something else too. Something Bruce had initially forgotten about in regards to his plans. He watched in fascination now as people stood in organised rows as Hatter addressed them at the front. Ivy wasn't the only one with the ability to enthral someone.

Bruce turned away as the people dispersed, Hatter had sent them on an errand of sorts, bringing tables, chairs and other things from houses and shops. Instead, he turned his gaze to the sky where, there, Kal was flying towards them.

He knew Kal wouldn't recognise him here. For one, he was disguised. Another, he was hidden amongst four chaotic areas that needed Kal's attention more than Bruce did.

Sure enough Kal flew past him, edging towards Joker's territory before backtracking towards the middle. A scream had him glancing towards Scarecrow's part. The jungle drew his attention in all its glory. Music started towards the mall, a cheery jingle that had Kal swerving towards it. He was turning in circles by the end of his sweep, not knowing which direction to take.

Another scream had Kal snapping out of his look over and darting off again. All according to plan.

Bruce waited until he saw two more blurs before he scaled down the side of the building. His first stop was Ivy. Lara had headed that way, possibly on the thought that she could subdue the temptress better than her husband and son. A sound theory since she was a woman, however she probably hadn't planned for Bruce to be there too.

He found her trying to negotiate with Ivy. The red head was cocooned in her plants, and even from this far away Bruce could feel the pheromones coming off her. The distraction of Ivy managed to get Bruce close enough, far too close if you asked him, to her.

When she did see him, it was more out of reaction to swipe a hand out and try to bat Bruce away. He wouldn't have blamed her with the number of masked crazies that had assaulted Gotham since his leaving. However, he was prepared and dodged the brunt of the hit, managing to throw the led lined box over to Ivy before he rolled the rest of the momentum away.

She took it, and with a whispered word to Lara, opened the box. The Kryptonite did the rest.

Bruce picked himself up, checking to make sure he had no more serious wounds than a bruise before joining Ivy as she looked over the super powered being before her.

"Who is she?"

Bruce took in the changes she had made to conceal her identity to Gotham. The different clothes and mask she had on her face.

She was still as beautiful as Bruce remembered. Sleek hair and unblemished skin, with that something alien they all had that made them attractive. Bruce remembered reading Dracula when he was fourteen and wondering if the El's were the same thing. Not a vampire. He knew those weren't... well he wouldn't say not real, not in the world he lived in. But he wondered if they had the same principle going. Of adopting a look that was bound to make terrans think them attractive in order to put them in a false sense of security. After all, who wouldn't trust a pretty face.

Standing there, he debated ruining her disguise. Just telling Ivy her identity. He was planning on destroying their lives, why not start with their biggest secret.

"One of the bad guys," Bruce ended up saying, some of his kindness seeping through. He turned his attention back to Ivy. "You think you can subdue her without that?" He nodded towards the Kryptonite.

"Maybe." Ivy mused, "I think I have something strong enough to keep her out."

"Use it."

He took the box back off her when she gave him the all clear. Her plants were wrapped tightly enough around Lara that it would take some effort to clear when she woke up. Near impossible if Ivy managed to poison her enough into complacency.

Bruce had enough faith to trust she did, and moved on with one last look back.

He had to scale another rooftop to see how far along the other two El's were. Kal was a beacon even through the foggy streets of Gotham. Bruce located him almost right away trying to fight through Scarecrow's gas. Jor had went for Joker, it seemed neither of them perceived Hatter too much of an immediate threat.

Debating, Bruce took one last look over at Kal before heading towards the green smoke.

He'd managed to steal a gas mask, modifying it and making sure it was able to withstand the Joker gas. He was pretty sure he was safe as he started walking the streets towards the flying blur near the GCPD.

The people over here were a nuisance, Bruce found, more than anything. Only a few were really a threat, and preferred to take their anger out on each other than Bruce. The others however, in their manic daze would come up to him like dogs with a treat, showing him this or that they had done. He guessed that saying was right, genius really did need an audience, as again and again he was witness to their carnage. He supposed he was left alone, he concluded as he reached the GCPD, because there was an even bigger, familiar target to these people. The GCPD had been destroyed, literally. The cops themselves, well versed in the Joker's antics, were setting up base, gas masked, inside buildings. Building themselves a barricade as the masses of people in Joker's army ripped doors and shot guns through the GCPD's window's.

He followed the destruction, noting the more people there were the closer he was to Jor. The closer he was to the Joker too. Jor had taken his fight to the root of the problem. On top of the GCPD tower was the clown prince himself, laughing, his head thrown back and firing bullet after bullet at Jor.

He cringed at the first few bullets, the sound replaying itself in his head, bringing back old buried memories of a night he didn't want to remember right then. Eventually the monotony of the firing had him back in the present, and able to appreciate the sight in front of him. Sure, he wasn't that big a fan of guns, but there was something satisfying in watching Jor El be thrown back the smallest bit as a bazooka hit him full in the face.

"Enough!" Jor yelled, darting forward and snatching the weapon from Joker's hands. "I will ask you one more time clown, and then we are done talking. Reverse your gas."

One white gloved hand went up to a red stained mouth, pulled down in thought. "You know what, since you asked nicely I will." His arms outstretched he walked over to the edge of the GCPD roof and yelled out onto the streets. "Stand down minions. Our work here is done."

Bruce used the distraction of the Joker, again to sneak up behind Jor. Hiding behind a grate, he caught the look in the clown's eye before Jor was, once again, hit full in the face with something. A cannister.

"Then again it is still light out. Tell you what Superfreak, how about another three hours of playtime and then I'll stand down." He chuckled slightly, his eyes darting over to Bruce. "Not that you'll be here to stop me when three hours are up... hmm. Oh well."

The Joker went back to shouting orders over the rooftop, ignoring the coughing fit Jor had as he tried to fight off the gas. Bruce saw him failing. Saw the way he struggled to his knees as a short laugh escaped his mouth.

Stepping from the shadows he thought it about time he put Jor out of his misery. The man let him approach, his strength was still there, but with the gas obscuring his sight and twisting his mind his arms were flailing in the wrong direction.

"I looked forward to this," Bruce let himself say before he opened the Kryptonite box.

Jor was out in seconds, preferring unconsciousness to the Joker gas.

"Make sure he doesn't wake up too soon," Bruce ordered the still shouting man as he made his way to the GCPD stairs.

"Will do," He heard sang behind him as the door swung shut.

Kal had, somehow managed to get out of Scarecrow's hold. When Bruce got to another rooftop to find him he was disappointed to see Jonathan Crane hanging from a pole and the streets cleared of any gas. Already emergency teams were being sent in and tending to those they reached first.

Hatter it was then.

Compared to the jungle and the crazed streets before Hatters territory was unnerving. The people didn't speak, they moved mechanically as they all made tea or danced around as tinkling music played from stereo's and speakers around the streets.

Kal was at the head of it all, sitting primly in a seat next to the Hatter. His eyes were glazed and mouth slack, still handsome despite all that. Bruce saw no sign of a hat, although one was in arms reach of the Kryptonian, and turned to face Jarvis.

The man was sitting at the head sipping tea, watching Bruce as he made his assessment of Kal.

"He was always too easy to control," The Hatter noted.

"How long will it last?"

The Hatter shrugged, "As long as Alice did in Wonderland."

Wonderful. Without a time limit in sight Bruce got to work.

The truck had been there for days. He had stolen it the morning after Lex gave him the Kryptonite. He had left it below his first hiding spot, and ran it back to fetch Kal as quick as he could. The Kryptonian was heavier than he looked, but Bruce could haul men twice his size in the air and catch them, so he made do and lifted Kal into the trunk.

Jor was just as, if not slightly more, heavier than Kal, and with no offer of help from the Joker he was left to climb down the GCPD stairs carrying him. Compared to the others Lara was the easiest out of all three of them to heave.

He drove as fast as he could, bearing in mind the efforts the others had taken to keep the aliens knocked out. It was harder than he initially planned to get them all into his warehouse and chained up, but in the end he did it without waking them.

He had found the chains the first time he set foot in the warehouse. It seemed his initial thought about it belonging to a slightly less legal enterprise was right. Along with the chains were some of the many devices the other owner had left behind. Broken wrenches, blood splattered crowbars, everything to further the thought he was doing the right thing in getting Dick away from these people, this life and this city.

Even dangling from chains the El's looked polished. Their hair didn't look out of place, their skin was smooth, their clothes although ripped look like a designer had made it that way. The whole image had Bruce's blood boiling.

He took off his disguise while he was waiting. He had considered doing this anonymous. Not give them any reason to link this all back to him. But the sadistic streak in him hadn't allowed him that. He wanted them to know who had defeated them. It also had him keeping Kal's cape on, letting him rub in their defeat that much more.

It was a whole hour of fiddling with the box on his lap before the El's started stirring. Kal was first, whatever Hatter gave him wearing off as his eyes cleared and head tilted in awareness.

Bruce caught the sharpness returning as Kal narrowed his eyes on the Warehouse's ceiling. It wasn't long before Kal was scouring the rest of the place for his captor, eyes landing on Bruce.

Recognition came far later than Bruce would have expected. At first, Kal's eyes went red. The same red that haunted his dreams when he was younger. The same red that almost killed him and vaporised Alfred out of existence. It died when Kal blinked, and blinked again like he couldn't put the picture in front of him together.

"You," came the accusation, sluggishly from Kal's mouth as he somewhat remembered Bruce. But not the right identity as Kal said next, "I thought I dealt with you already. If you're after the boy, you're going to have a hard time of it."

He thought he was Dick's kidnapper. At least until he fully recognised him.

That came with a pained look, almost like Bruce had punched him.

"Bruce?" Kal breathed, his eyes wide and drinking Bruce in. "It's really-"

His hand clinked as the chains stopped his movements.

"Don't." Bruce warned as Kal made to break them.

Kal's eyes narrowed, flitting from the chains and back to Bruce.

"What is this?"

"Your comeuppance."

Kal was tugging the chains slightly, as if testing their weight. No doubt he was thinking he could snap them when Bruce turned away.

"I don't understand."

Bruce scoffed, the sound quiet, but echoing in the silent room around them. "Of course you don't. You never did understand."

"Is this about what happened with Dick? I swear Bruce, I didn't know it was you."

"No, you just took a child away from someone, despite the fact said child was telling you not to. How's that super hearing Kal? Because from where I was lying it sure sounded like Dick wasn't in trouble."

Kal flinched, looking more pained the longer Bruce spoke. "I swear-"

"Save it." Bruce snapped.

Kal quietened down, the pair of them just staring at each other for a while. Bruce could feel Kal's x-ray vision at work as he looked for bruises and cuts. Bruce hoped he found what he was looking for. Hoped he could see the fading yellow from where he slammed Bruce into that wall.

It was this that would prove his downfall. In watching Kal look him over Bruce missed the quick tip of alertness. He only knew when it was too late that Jor was awake, and by then he was knocked out and being stripped of any Kryptonite he had on his possession.

When he woke, he was in a glass cell. He figured it was down in the caves from the bats above and the newly glossed suit he could barely see to his right. He didn't know for certain however, until he caught sight of one of his captors as they came to feed him.

Jor was on the other end. A pitiful look on his face as he abandoned his speed to walk in normally towards Bruce. He slid Alfred's cooking, his favourites in fact, through a gap that formed just for Jor's hand. Making sure to yank it back out before Bruce could do so much as shift in place.

"I take it you're happy with yourself," Jor started.

The statement itself was enough to send Bruce into a rage, banging on the glass and shouting everything he had bottled up for weeks at him. Jor left after a few minutes yet Bruce still went on. Now he had started he couldn't seem to stop. Not until his hands were bloody and Lara came down with Alfred to try and tend to them.

It was an embarrassment having to hold his hands through the gap, and something he would have held off for as long as possible if anyone but Alfred had been the one tending him.

He didn't say anything while he wiped the blood and bandaged him up. Really Bruce didn't think he had anything to say. He had left Alfred alone with these people. He had ran away, and when he did come back he tried to destroy Gotham in revenge. Bruce didn't blame Alfred for keeping his silence.

The El's were wiser in bringing Bruce his meals now. They no longer waited until he was asleep to deliver them, and they no longer sent Jor down if they could help it. Instead, Alfred or Kal went down. The former keeping his silence up and the latter spending most of his time down there just looking at Bruce until he was called up.

It was during one of Kal's visits that he managed to pry out what had went wrong in his plan.

The Joker. The man was a wild card from the beginning, but Bruce had trusted him enough in their mutual hate to get the job done. However, it seemed his impression on the clown had sparked something else. The Joker hadn't wanted Bruce to succeed. He, apparently was asking about the look on Bruce's face as Jor knocked him out when Kal dragged him back to Arkham. His new best friend had double crossed him, and all so he could laugh at Bruce's defeat. Before Bruce had got there the clown had explained Bruce's little plan, and instead of knocking him with laughing gas had told Jor to pretend, and tell him all about Bruce's reactions when he came to visit later. He supposed he should have been more careful when he said the Joker should look for something new to laugh at.

Bruce spent many nights after that cursing the clown, enjoying the way it echoed around his prison. His guards, on the other hand, didn't share his enjoyment. The fourth day he spewed curses they sent down Kal again. Only this time he wasn't alone.

"Dick."

Bruce felt the breath leave him as he spotted the small boy at Kal's side. He was dressed in a fine suit, with a tie choking his neck and hair slicked back. He looked every inch the billionaires son as he tottered behind Kal. His eyes were downcast as he entered the cave, shoulders slumped, and Bruce wondered if he too had turned against him because of this tirade.

He was proven wrong when, as soon as Kal nudged him, he looked up and caught sight of Bruce. A small squeak echoed around the cave before the boy was throwing himself at the glass trying to claw through to Bruce.

"I thought he'd killed you," Dick sobbed. "You were lying there- and then- I told them to search and they wouldn't listen to me-"

Bruce tried to soothe him as best he could with a glass pane in the way. He thought that if they were trying to placate him with this it wasn't working. With each tear that fell that Bruce couldn't brush away he promised revenge.

"It's fine. I'm fine," Bruce tried, warding off his own tears.

Dick clawed again at the glass, as if willpower itself could break it. Finally he looked back at Kal, the alien having been watching the proceedings with a frown on his brow.

"Why is he behind this. Let him out."

Kal stepped forward, slotting Bruce's meal through the gap as usual.

"I'm afraid Bruce has to stay here for a while. I'm sorry Richard, it's for our protection. But," Here he crouched, as if he hadn't just ruined their reunion. "You can come down here as often as you like. Tell him all about your day, and what funny things Alfred's been teaching you."

Dick turned his big blue eyes back to Bruce, "But why?" Something snapped in his gaze as he rolled his head back to facing Kal. "Jor said, didn't he?"

Kal huffed, "My father knows what's best Richard. Especially in this case. I can't tell you why, but just know that this really is for our protection."

Dick huffed this time, turning away from Kal altogether. "Sure."

Kal clapped Dick lightly on the shoulder, Bruce noting the flinch Dick made upon impact. "Don't fight me on this Richard, please? Now come along, dinner will be served in a minute."

"But you said-"

"You can come down afterwards," Kal reassured, and with one last look at Bruce, herded the boy back up the stairs.

As soon as Dick was out of sight Bruce flung his food at the glass. How dare they use Dick against him. He should have guessed something like this when he woke. The boy would be a bargaining chip. One visit if Bruce was good. Two if he ate, three if he allowed them to treat him. He knew that was coming. Had suspected it ever since Jor showed his face. They weren't going to just let him go, or simply lock him away. He was too valuable. He knew their secret. He would be treated, either by Jor or a herd of doctors who believed their lie about him being unstable. None of them would believe him if he raved about his adoptive parents being aliens, even with Superman on the scene. It was just too unrealistic, especially for Bruce Wayne. The story of his aunt and uncle had been around for years, trying to tell the truth now as both a criminal and a runaway would make him look petty, more, it would make him look insane.

He wasn't going to win this.

Still, he had hoped the El's would have had some decency. Not use a child in this way. It appeared he was wrong. He was always wrong when it came to these people. They were just too...

He sighed, calming. It would do him no good to rile himself up again. It wasn't helping him to get out of this place and it certainly wasn't helping him get closer to Dick. He was going to have to start changing his tactics.

Dick didn't pop down after supper like Kal had promised. He didn't come the next morning either. Them using him as a weapon was just as Bruce suspected. Especially when Jor came instead of Kal that day to feed him.

His hands were laden with Bruce's favourites, again, which he slid through. Bruce curled up, not bothering to eat, and instead preferred watching Jor as he circled around Bruce's prison. He wondered when the man would get up the gal enough to start his little behaviour modification. He knew it was coming, there was no other reason for Jor to be down here after all.

Finally, after the fifth circle, Jor came to a stop in front of Bruce. Nodding down to the untouched food he said, "Eat. You need to nourishment."

Bruce nudged the plate closer to Jor, clinking it on the glass wall separating them. "A human can go three weeks without something to eat. Since it's only been a day since my last meal I think I can do without breakfast."

Jor sighed, his eyes closing like they would do when Bruce was being particularly difficult as a child. "You always were a challenge," Bruce heard him say, before his eyes opened and Jor spoke louder. "What happened in the Warehouse. I can't allow you to endanger my family like that again. It's unacceptable, and unfair Bruce. Do you understand?"

"You're speaking English, why wouldn't I understand you?"

A long breath was let loose as Jor struggled to keep his temper. "Bruce, I don't know what I did to upset you-"

"Upset? You didn't upset me," Bruce reassured. "I was upset long before you landed in my backyard."

Confusion spread over Jor's face. "Then wh-"

"Enraged on the other hand," He interrupted, enjoying the idea he had the power in this conversation. "Now that you're responsible for."

"Bruce-"

Not in the mood to hear anything more from him Bruce ordered him to "Go. I'm not up to this today."

"We need-!"

"I need to see Dick. Send him down when you go up will you?"

Bruce could see the control it took for Jor to not snap back. To take his steps away from the prison and up back to his family.

He didn't see Dick that day either.

His little spat with Jor cost him seeing anyone for a few days. He knew they came down, every so often his food would change and a new meal would be waiting in his cell for him. But as for seeing them he was left with nothing but wind.

The fifth day after his spat and the thirteenth day of his imprisonment was when he saw someone again. It was Kal. The man was dressed in running attire, stupid for an alien who probably didn't need to exercise. He was carrying a bag with nothing noticeable standing out against the fabric. The whole image had Bruce uneasy.

He backed into as much of a corner as he could in his cell, watching as Kal came closer. He stopped in front of Bruce, the same strange look on his face he always had when he came down to see him. It only lasted a few moments before Kal cleared his throat and held the bag up.

"I'm here to take you for a shower."

This was new.

Clearing his throat again Kal continued. "Father wants it clear to you that if you try to escape we'll bring you back. There's no Kryptonite anywhere in the manor, so you can't attack us again. He also wanted me to let you know that Dick will be with him at Wayne Enterprises today while you're showering."

It was a threat, clear as anything. Jor was letting him know that Dick was with him. One foot out of line and maybe Dick wouldn't be with anyone anymore.

Bruce bit down everything he wanted to shout at Kal. It would do him no good after all. So he agreed to what Kal was saying and let himself be led to the first floor of the manor.

Breathing in the fresh air he had to admit he really did smell. Thirteen days without a shower, and a toilet that was somehow inbuilt into his cell hadn't left him smelling like roses.

He was led to his old room, or Kal's now he supposed. The bag turned out to be soap, and a razor most surprisingly. He saw Kal eyeing it the moment Bruce took it out.

"Father said I'm supposed to supervise you," Kal mentioned his eyes still on the blade.

"Of course he did," Bruce said, fingering the smooth blade. It was his grandfathers if he remembered correctly. The blade was sharp, meaning one of the El's had found it and made sure it was still usable. He didn't like the thought of them going through his family's things. But he guessed they had been doing that since the moment they arrived here.

Taking another look around the room that used to belong to him, Bruce sighed and started stripping. Kal hadn't actually changed much in here. The towels had the El symbol on and all the products were of course Kal's. But other than that it was the same as it had been before Bruce left.

Throwing his clothes to Kal, he caught the man staring at the fading yellow on Bruce's chest. He nodded at the aghast gasp that left Kal's mouth. He felt some satisfaction in seeing some remorse from one of these people.

He tried to ignore the Kal the as he stepped in the warm spray. It had been years since he had a good shower, and Wayne manor had the best showers in the world according to him. He sighed as weeks worth of dirt and grime slipped off his skin. He rather enjoyed breathing again when he didn't smell like a sewer.

When he felt he couldn't smell any nicer he just enjoyed himself under the water. He was planning on drawing this out for as long as possible. Even if it had only been two weeks he was dreading being sent back to his cell. He tried thinking of anything that would allow him to stay in the shower longer. Shaving the new mountain man look he had adopted would have to wait until he was out, but he guessed he could live without his other body hair for a while.

It took some persuading for Kal to pass over the razor, and even more for Bruce to be allowed to use it on himself. It seemed the El's were worried self harm was on the table today, as he was forced to keep the shower door open so Kal could observe him.

He supposed some good came from Kal being there. It meant he finally got to the bottom of those weird looks he had been shooting Bruce since his imprisonment. He caught it again, looking through his lashes as he turned to do his other leg. Kal was watching him, his eyes fixated on Bruce's chest, and slowly edging down until, at the last minute, he would seem to snap out of his thoughts, or catch a bruise he made, and the look would be replaced with guilty indifference. It seemed Kal liked what he saw. Interesting.

It took seconds for his mind to go through hundreds of plans, ways he could take advantage of this. If he could get Kal on his side, he could get out of his cell sooner. But first he guessed he would have to make amends for what he did. Or at least breach the silence that had descended over them.

He tried thinking back to what Kal liked when they were kids. Reading. Following Bruce around. He was also fairly interested in terran behaviours. Some things, no matter how logical, would always fascinate him in how unusual they were. Bruce remembered spending frustrating hours one night explaining why children ate sweets. Kal had understood they were nice, he had been eating a full bar of chocolate all the way through Bruce's explanation, yet he still wanted Bruce to tell him why children would endanger their health and teeth just to eat sweets.

"I used to have to do this in the circus," Bruce eventually said, biting back a smirk as Kal physically jumped at the words.

Eyes wide and snapping up from somewhere they shouldn't have been looking, Kal focused back on Bruce's face. "What?"

Bruce motioned to where the razor was sliding over his hips. "It stopped things from pulling."

A frown appeared on Kal's face. "Pulling?"

Bruce nodded, "Don't you get that? Your suit's pretty tight." He made sure to let his eyes linger on Kal's chest, making sure the alien caught him before smirking back up at him.

He could have been wrong, but Bruce was pretty sure Kal's cheeks weren't that red before.

Kal swallowed, clearing his throat before answering, "No. I don't get that." He turned away from Bruce before he could try anything else. "Hurry up. Father said I couldn't have you out longer than necessary."

Bruce huffed at the clear dismissal, his hands sliding more smoothly now he wasn't trying to tease Kal. As soon as he was done, he was ushered out and forced to stand still as Kal did his face for him. Obviously the alien had cottoned on to the idea Bruce was stalling, proved right when he was near ran back to his cell.

No matter, he thought as the glass closed up around him again. His short trip had achieved something at least. Something which he made sure to put in motion with a small smile, the nicest one he could muster under the circumstances. It worked too as Kal lingered behind the glass to smile briefly back.

"Thank you Kal," he said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible.

It threw Kal, that much Bruce could tell from the blush returning to his cheeks. A quick "You're welcome." And Kal was running away and back up to the manor above.

He spent the rest of the day thinking up ways he could take advantage of this new development. It would be difficult trapped in his cell. Not to mention it wasn't certain when or who was going to be the one to brace Bruce's presence on his scheduled meal times.

He was just checking for camera's hidden in the caves. Wondering if Jor kept an eye on him, watching from his father's study. Or whether he just used his powers to make sure Bruce was still alive. Either way Bruce checked, standing on his tip toes to peer as best he could to the caves ceiling when he heard someone clicking down the stairs.

He slumped back down, not wanting to make his investigation too obvious, and immediately sprang up again when he saw who it was.

"Bruce," Dick yelled before he had even touched the bottom step. He ran over, less pristinely dressed than last time, and his hair the same birds nest Bruce remembered combing tirelessly through before a performance. His hands imprinted on the glass as he tried to get as close as he could to Bruce. "I'm sorry I didn't visit. I really meant to, I tried and everything but something always came up. Either Jor wanted me to look over something about school, or Lara wanted me to try her baking. And it's not like I can say no, you know. What if they chuck me out? Then I wouldn't be able to see you and-"

"Dick. It's fine," Bruce chuckled, biting down the hysterical laughter that wanted to climb out. "You're here now, that's what matters."

"I missed you."

"Me too," Bruce sighed, wishing he could hug him.

Dick stayed for three hours. He told Bruce most of what he had missed recovering, or what the media didn't know. After Dick was taken away he was dropped off with the El's. Not being a stupid boy he saw through Kal's disguise straight away, deducing he was Superman the second day he spent with them. Of course he didn't tell them he knew.

That threw Bruce, until he connected other things he had noticed since his last sweep of the manor together with this. He had wondered where Kal was keeping his suit. At first, Bruce had thought it had been moved in case he escaped and stole it again. Now, the suit being moved and Dick being allowed down here was making more sense.

"What did they tell you about me?" Bruce pressed.

Apparently this was a prototype for Arkham, Dick was told. They didn't want to send Bruce there, having explained to the boy their long history together. But apparently Bruce was too dangerous to be let loose around the manor yet. So they had decided Bruce would play guinea pig, and that the cave was the most inconspicuous place to put it.

"But I know the truth Bruce. I know you didn't do anything too bad," Dick reassured.

Bruce kept quiet. As much as he would have liked to agree with Dick he knew he would be lying. He was pretty sure more than one person had died in his mission to get back at the El's.

He moved the conversation on from there, not wanting to get pressed about what happened anymore. Other than the alien thing, Dick was being treated like a star. He was given toys, a big bedroom, and more clothes than he could possibly wear. This had him complaining for a while. At least until he told Bruce about the gymnastics gear they were getting him, and the bars they were having installed in one of the Wayne halls.

"They're gonna make it into a gym I think. Jor said something about exercise being good for children."

By the tone Dick took saying Jor's words back to him Bruce took it Dick wasn't a fan either.

Eventually their time had to come to an end. Lara came down, a tray in her hands she slotted through into Bruce's cell. As soon as they were free they helped Dick up and carted him out without so much as a goodbye.

Bruce didn't really matter. He had seen him, that was enough. It also proved his point. He was nice to Kal, and he was sure this was some reward for being, not only complacent, but decent in his trip upstairs. So long as he kept up the niceties Kal would be handing over his freedom in no time.


	4. Chapter 4

"I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Kal looked vaguely horrified in front of him, and Bruce didn't really blame him, this wasn't exactly the topic the pair of them were expecting to cross on this particular day.

Kal had come to get him for his weekly bath. Weekly, because Bruce had been behaving these past couple of weeks which meant he was deserving of a wash every now and then. It had been the same situation as last time, the same warning not to do anything, the same if Jor even heard one mention of Bruce threatening his son there would be consequences, and the same uncomfortable tension Kal seemed to exude whenever he was so much within a room with Bruce.

He had done his usual routine, washing as slowly as he could, trying to find some way to prolong going back to his dingy cell in the cave, and, more recent, tried to make amends with Kal. It was through him Bruce was getting all these new privileges after all.

He'd made nice, or as nice as he could without being suspicious, but eventually there was nothing else Bruce could really say that wouldn't mean crossing this threshold sooner or later. No matter how much he would have liked to stay quiet about this, or how much he wanted to believe it wasn't true, he had to admit this wasn't about Kal. So, "I know you may think I'm lying or that I'm just saying it, but it's true. I'm sorry Kal. For everything I did to you. It's not you that I'm angry with."

Kal didn't say anything, merely stood there with that horrified look on his face. Bruce considered saying more, maybe trying his luck in asking after Dick, but Kal turned from him before he could, the message clear that Bruce needed to hurry up. He did, wanting from this conversation now that it had finished.

His cell was as bleak as it had always been when he was put back in it. Kal sped away, not bothering to hide his powers like he usually did. Bruce just hoped that the apology he gave wouldn't cost him anything important, like maybe seeing Dick once this week.

No one came to see him until meal time, Bruce seeing pancakes and syrup which meant the whole night had went past since anyone came to see him. Lara waited around while he ate, they all did after Dick had made a whispered plan the last time he came down to tell Bruce to pretend to choke to get out. So, to make sure he wasn't going to fake or even attempt to try and choke on his food, he had his food bearers watching him until the last bite had gone. Annoying. But Bruce kept that to himself. He was making an effort after all.

Three more pancake breakfasts passed before Bruce was given anything interesting about the world above. Namely, Kal came down again. Usually, especially these days, Kal avoided Bruce like the plague. The only person Bruce saw less than Kal was Jor, and that was because Bruce, despite his promise to be good, could barely stop himself from lashing out whenever he saw that smug alien face looking at him. The only times Bruce saw Kal these days was when he was leading Bruce to the shower or brining Dick down for a visit. Today was another shower day, which, was confusing.

Yet the cell opened, the warnings were given and Bruce was led all the way up the stairs and back into the manor. He washed, shaved and felt like a normal human being in record time, too confused to remember to draw it out.

Finally, just as the last stroke of his father's razor left his neck, Kal disappeared for a second, zipping back with something black and expensive looking in his arms. "For you."

It was a suit. A good suit. One that looked almost like the ones his father used to wear in his memories. It wasn't something too flashy however. Not something that would be worn at galas or clubs. This one was one someone would wear for Christmas, or formal gatherings.

Play nice, Bruce thought to himself, play nice. The shirt, waistcoat, even the blazer, they slipped on like a glove, which meant Kal wasn't just looking to admire the few times Bruce would catch him. The tie was house of El blue, and almost a trial to put on. He'd forgotten just how annoying it was to wear their colours, how he was forced to do it as a child when they were attending functions together. Lara had said it was so they could easily find him in a room, him and Kal. The bright primary colours standing out like a beacon amongst the muted purples and greys the rest of the world wore. Bruce had known back then that to Lara it may have been a way to find them, but to Jor it was a means to show Bruce was one of them. A label that Bruce belonged to the house of El.

The tie took a while to get right. Not least because of Bruce's reluctance to wear it. So many years wearing nothing but costumes and slacks meant that Bruce's hands had forgotten the way a tie would fold over such a way to be presentable. Eventually he deemed it a lost cause and let Kal fix it up, noting that, since his little zip off he too had changed from his usual work suit into something a bit nicer.

"Will Dick be there?" Bruce couldn't help but ask.

"Yes."

That had him breathing a bit easier. He could survive a night with Jor if Dick was there, since this would be a night with Jor, of that he had no doubt. Pulling away from Kal's finishing fingers Bruce tried to fix his hair, using the time there to brace himself. This was a test, he knew that. What kind of test would remain to be seen but Bruce had to be prepared. He couldn't lose it, not if he wanted to see Dick, and especially not if he wanted to get out of here one day.

He didn't know what to do now that thought was growing fainter by the day. This situation just proved that he wasn't getting away from the El's. He would never truly get away from them.

At last, when there was nothing else to do and Kal was starting to look a bit antsy himself, he let himself be led out of the bathroom.

He went down halls he hadn't been in for weeks, relishing every familiar wall, painting, vase. The nook where his mom would hide from him when they were playing hide and seek. She always went easy on him. The lounge where his dad would hand Bruce his stethoscope and pretend to play doctors with him. They went past memory after memory, Bruce drowning out the more recent ones with the El's in favour of remembering the good times with his parents.

Just when Bruce thought he was actually going to taste freedom, the Gotham air in his lungs, they detoured from the door, Kal making sure he was blocking it as he steered Bruce into another of the manor's rooms. This one he couldn't bring any good memories up. When he was a child they had only used it for guests or dinner parties, all of which he hated. Here there was nothing good to block out the numerous conversations he was forced to endure about himself in Kryptonian. Jor treating him like an idiot because he couldn't speak their language, or so they thought.

Already seated around the large wooden table was Lara fiddling slightly with Dick's tie as he stood to her right. Any thought of ties or looking presentable went out the window as soon as Bruce came near enough to be noticed. Dick ended up tearing the material as he peeled out of Lara's hold and jumped into Bruce's arms.

God, it had been so long. Too long.

Dick was skinnier than he remembered, lighter, which didn't bode well for his eating habits. The suit he wore was just as expensive as Bruce's, with a hint of some gaudy cologne around the collar. He couldn't see much from Dick when he was clinging to him, but as soon as he managed to pry Dick away to just see his face he didn't like what he saw. He was pale, much paler than he should have been since he wasn't in the sun all the time anymore. There were black circles under his eyes, heavier than just a few nights of no sleep, and despite the delight on his little face right now, Bruce recognised the tightness to his smile, the rustiness that spoke of lack of use.

He reigned in the anger that wanted to burst out of him. He was finally seeing Dick, in front of him. He could feel him in person and look at him without seeing a slither of himself through glass. So he breathed deeply, gave Dick the best smile he could under the circumstances and let Kal lead the two of them to the table.

Bruce was given his old seat, the one furthest from Jor, with Dick seated next to him. He looked like Christmas had come early, bouncing in his seat like he would do back home. No amount of reproachful looks from Lara would have Dick calming as he started on all the things Bruce had missed since their last visit. The new gym equipment that were actually kind of fun to swing on sometimes. Alfred trying to teach him how to bake. He also told Bruce about Gotham Academy, another reason why Bruce had to keep his temper in check.

He had first been told about Dick going to school the third time he visited Bruce's cell. He had been so excited, or as excited as he could be under the circumstances. He'd been asking Bruce question after question about his own time there, what the kids would be like and if he would make lots of friends. That last part was what Dick was itching for. Locked away inside Wayne Manor Bruce knew how lonely it could be. But unlike Bruce, Dick didn't like the loneliness, he didn't seek it out, instead he gravitated towards people like a moth to a flame. Gotham Academy would have kids his own age he could talk and play with. Bruce had a hard time keeping positive in the face of so much excitement. Besides, Dick found out soon enough just how fun private school could be.

He could tell the fourth time Dick came down that his first week didn't go so well. The kids at private school had a number of things to choose from when looking for ways to undermine the new Wayne kid. His lack of an education was a start. Bruce had done his best in the circus to help teach Dick his ABC's and the basic mysteries of the world, but that was nothing when compared to six years already in school, learning subjects that they had probably been studying for a good few years whereas Dick had only just heard of them. They would probably call him stupid since he would need extra lessons, or a tutor, which meant he wouldn't be making many friends that way. Then there was the fact it was well known he came from a circus. If there was one thing rich kids held onto like a lifeline it was the idea that because their parents had money they were better than other kids. Dick came from nothing and would stay being nothing, at least for a good few years. Mix that in with the weird El family and it was no wonder Dick had nothing good other than the new books he got to read to tell Bruce about Gotham Academy.

Still, it kept the table alive enough for Bruce to just about forget the last occupant of the manor taking his seat at the table.

The whole dinner was interesting. Dick filled most of it with inane talk about anything a kid his age found interesting. The food was good, better now Bruce had actual sharp utensils to use to cut his meat up. When Dick finally ran out of topics, inhaling his food instead of talking around it, Bruce tuned into the other conversation around the table.

 _"He doesn't seem to be having a negative reaction to us being here,"_ Lara said, Kryptonian hiding their words. _"His heart rate is normal, and I don't think I've seen him smile like that since..."_

 _"It's the boy,"_ Jor said _, "Nothing more Lara. Don't think for a second he won't turn on us if we had him alone."_

_"I just don't understand what we've done. Did he say anything to you Kal before you brought him here?"_

Kal shook his head, _"Merely asked about Dick."_

At the mention of his name Dick stopped eating, narrowing his eyes over at Kal. The man had the decency to avoid Dick's gaze, the guilty look proving to the boy that they were talking about him. Dick rolled his eyes at Bruce, the motion showing that they hadn't learnt from their mistakes when talking about someone behind their back. Maybe Bruce could teach Dick a little Kryptonian, level the playing fields.

 _"Richard,"_ Lara corrected. _"And are you sure he didn't say anything about the attack?"_

_"Very mother."_

_"He doesn't have to say anything."_ Jor said.

Talk moved on to W.E. after that. Things Bruce didn't really have an interest in. Not when Dick had found his voice again and asked about the manor.

"You used to live here, right?" Dick asked. "I saw a few pictures of you, and Kal let me look through your wardrobe when he brought me here. It's really big, and you have no good books. I'm surprised you even made it a night at the circus if you grew up with a bed like I have."

Surprised but not confused, Bruce could read between the lines about the why Dick was asking about him running away. "I was quite determined," Bruce said, recounting his first night at Haly's for Dick. It had always been a favourite story of his, he even ended up sleeping in Eleanor's cage a time or two to prove he too was brave enough to last the night. Of course, Mary and John always told it different to the harrowing tale Bruce did, they laughed about how many times they had lost a man or two who had taken one look at the elephant and ran for their lives. They just said Bruce was too stupid to think to run, or too shocked, always piping on at the end that no matter what the reason it was a good thing anyway, since they had him now. He missed them more than he could think about right now, and was thankful when Dick cast off the lingering sadness by telling Bruce another thing his old room was lacking in terms of fun.

Dessert came with Alfred, the man letting his hand linger on Bruce's shoulder as he set down his plate. Bruce hadn't seen much of Alfred. Whether that was because he had been kept out and away from Bruce or he was too ashamed to see him Bruce didn't know. Regardless, the hand on his shoulder did wonders to help Bruce through the last stretch of this farce of a dinner.

Just as Bruce breached the filling of his cake he heard talk turn back to him on the Kryptonian end. Kal had been silent through most of it, no longer the grinning teen who loved speaking his native language at least once through the day. He'd spent most of the dinner watching Bruce, probably making mental notes about what he was saying in case something dangerous cropped up. Either way he was the first to bring the topic away from science and back to Bruce. _"We can't carry on like this father. It's not right, and he's proven he's fine."_

_"He threatened my family Kal."_

_"He is family."_

_"Which is why he's here and not in that asylum he should be in. I never should have listened to Alfred."_ It made Bruce wonder what had happened to Alfred in the past few years. A surge of guilt came over him. What did they do to him when they realised Bruce was missing? Did they blame Alfred? Did Alfred blame him? He didn't like the host of questions that came to mind about the missing years. Nor the fact he wouldn't get any answers, not right now.

_"It wasn't Alfred's fault father and you know that. And I know he threatened us, but I had just taken Di- Richard. He was bound to be angry, even vengeful. As a man of logic you have proven just how far you will go for your family father. Bruce was merely acting in the same way."_

_"To us,"_ Jor growled. Dick slouched slightly next to Bruce in his seat. He slid over the rest of his dessert knowing that just because Dick didn't understand what was being said that didn't mean he couldn't catch the tone. He used to hate it himself when he couldn't understand them, wondering what had Jor so riled up or Lara so sullen at the table and wondering, at the back of his mind, just why the conversation was being kept in Kryptonian. _"He used our weaknesses against us Kal. He-"_

_"Was scared and didn't know what else to do."_

_"He could have came to us."_

_"I had beaten him bloody father. There is a reason Terrans run from their families, and I doubt meeting again only to be pushed into the dirt would have helped that reason. I'm not saying we should completely forget about what Bruce did to us, I'm merely saying that we should be more understanding instead of ignoring him like any other criminal."_

_"Kal-"_

_"You just agreed he was family father. Look at him. He's calmed since we first saw him again."_

Bruce must have been a better actor than he thought if he had Kal arguing this strongly for him. He supposed the apology earlier in the week might have helped things along too, but that wasn't so much acting as admitting he may have been a bit hasty in going after all the El's. Kal had never done him purposefully wrong after all. Even if he had been annoying as a teenager.

_"That doesn't mean we should let our guard down. For all we know he's merely using you to escape and plot some new attack against us."_

_"So we're supposed to just keep him as an animal instead? Perhaps if we looked at it from another perspective father. I'm not disagreeing he's dangerous, but maybe it's not entirely his fault. The criminals I deal with get help when they are imprisoned. Some of them are even thankful for it, they didn't know what to do with their mentality and lashed out. Bruce was exhibiting many of the symptoms some of these people have before he left. If we took him to someone, gave him more freedom than he has instead of giving him more excuses to hate us then he might not hold on to this anger."_

Strangely, Jor seemed even more against that idea than giving Bruce his freedom. It took Lara telling him to take a deep breath before Jor ground out, _"If we gave him this help he would have to see someone. We can't risk that Kal. Who knows what he might say to them."_

The argument that was going to be exploding out of the two male aliens was quelled with one pointed kick to each of them from Lara. By now not even Dick could pretend there wasn't something going on, and since this was supposed to be a pleasant meal, Bruce thought, from beginning to end, Lara was intending on keeping all arguments for afterwards.

Still, the damage had been done, and as the plates were cleared away Bruce was expecting the hint from Kal his time above was over. He grabbed Dick before he went, even as big as he was getting Bruce had no problem carrying him through the halls. He expected Lara or Jor to tell him to leave Dick behind, or even take him off him, but Bruce was allowed to walk all the way back to his cell with Dick clutching back just as tightly.

"Okay Dickie bird," Bruce set him down, ruffling that soft hair like he never would again. Not for a while anyway. "I need you to do something important for me while I'm down here alright? I need you to get a good nights sleep. Even if you have to eat all of Alfred's cookies to do it."

"I'll try."

He wanted to help. He really did, but there was nothing he could do from this stupid cave. All he could do was give advice. "Also," He remembered, "If those kids at the Academy give you any grief just punch them."

"But I'll get in trouble."

"And then the teachers will know why you got in trouble. You need to stand up to them, and if the teachers end up on your side they won't be so quick to call you again."

He could see Dick mulling it over. They had come up against wealthy people before. Just because they lived in a circus didn't mean they were cut off from the world. They would get rich people coming up to them all the time and asking for a private go on some of their equipment, mostly so they could show off to their friends or the girls they had brought with them. Usually the threat was being sued, and with kids it wasn't all that uncommon to hear that come out of their mouths as well. But school was school, and if people could avoid a lawsuit they would. Dick could punch all of them in the mouth and so long as he had reason to do so he could get away with it.

"Okay," He said eventually.

A pointed cough behind them meant their time was up. He gave Dick one last bone crushing hug until the boy was complaining and stepped back into his cell like the good prisoner he was.

An hour in and it was like he'd never been to dinner. It all felt like some kind of dream. A nightmare actually. He felt trapped again, wanted to see Dick despite knowing he'd just seen him not long ago. He wanted just something to do really that didn't have to do with sitting looking at the cave walls.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

He didn't see anyone the whole night, and the next morning it was Jor that delivered his breakfast so he couldn't exactly strike up a conversation there. Thankfully, his pancakes were enough of a distraction from his ever-pressing boredom to have him occupied for a good few minutes.

Kal came down with his lunch, and actually looked happy to be doing so. That put Bruce on guard, more so than the suit he was given yesterday. Then, Kal had done so with his usual pout on his face, Bruce knew from the onset that he was going to be spending some time with Jor. But this, he didn't know. What did Kal have to be happy about?

Whatever it was waited while Bruce ate his food. After however, Kal didn't even get the plate as it slid through, instead, he opened the cell and dragged Bruce out like they were kids at Christmas and, oh, Bruce did not want to remember Christmas right now. The first time Kal had discovered it he had been beyond confused.

"Is he kryptonian too?" He'd asked, eyes full of wonder as Alfred explained Santa Clause.

"Maybe," Bruce had said, actually not so sure not Kal had asked. The guy could fly, and he seemed to be all knowing. Super hearing could be very useful when in the present giving business.

If Christmas hadn't been spoilt when his parents died it was now when Kal went more than overboard trying to make Bruce feel better. His worst one had probably been the immediate Christmas after, where Kal had done extensive research on the lead up, getting his parents involved too. Bruce had not appreciated the early wake up. Nor the play fight Kal instigated so they could all 'come together in the spirit of the holiday' and he definitely didn't appreciate the gift. For some reason, Kal had thought it would be fun to spring upon Bruce half of his mother's necklace. The one she had been wearing to the cinema. The one that still had her blood on it when he saw it in the box.

He had nightmares for weeks after that. He appreciated the pearls, of course he did. But what he didn't appreciate was the shock of seeing them, and the blood. The blood he could never forgive Kal for.

But it wasn't Christmas now, and Kal didn't lead him to another stilted family meal. Instead they went to the southern part of the manor, the one with more wide open rooms and less furniture. Kal didn't let go through the whole trip there, which ordinarily would have made Bruce a little annoyed. But freedom. Not to mention he could hear a very distinctive and welcome voice ahead.

Kal stopped at the beginning of what had to be Dick's new 'gym.'

"Father agreed that exercise would be helpful to your wellbeing."

That was all the consent Bruce needed. He took a quick look at the different stations that had been set up. The pole and horse, the trapeze set high, the weights at the side, and there, in the middle, was Dick with his stuffed elephant Zitka in front of him giving instruction on how to do the perfect handstand.

"Don't forget not to chicken out halfway up," Bruce piped in, remembering Mary's shouted critiques in his first months at the circus.

Dick squealed in fright then delight as he launched himself at Bruce. He didn't waste time in questioning what was going on, instead, he led Bruce over to the ladder, telling him he better not drop him as the two of them climbed up.

It was possibly one of the best afternoons Bruce had experienced in a while. He chased Dick on the ropes for a while, long enough to remember what it was like to fly. He itched for a good breeze, contemplated opening the window had Kal not been on watch.

He settled for throwing Dick down onto the mats instead, the two of them wrestling until Dick came up with a game of catch with Zitka.

"You break her Bruce and I'll kill you," Dick called just before he vaulted himself onto one of the large gymnastic poles.

"You can try."

It was euphoric, and made better when Alfred brought lemonade for them in the last few minutes. Last few minutes since Alfred warned, "Master Jor has just left the office."

After that, Bruce was led back to his cell.

He didn't know whether it was a punishment or a gift later. On the one hand, he had fun playing with Dick like he used to in the circus. On the other, it was like the dinner all over again, just tempting him with things he could have and then taking it away again in a second. Proving, again, just who had the power in this situation.

He chose to think the former, if only because Kal wasn't as cruel as his father. Or, Bruce didn't think he was. It had been a while, after all, since he'd seen the boy now man.

The treats stopped at the workout. Three more pancake breakfasts went past before Bruce was given another chance alone with Kal. Then, it was dinner, Kal lingering by his cell. He remembered to show concern, he needed to be nice to Kal if he wanted his little bits of freedom.

So, he reluctantly put down his plate of Alfred's delicious roast dinner and gave Kal his full attention. "You seem troubled." Kal huffed not elaborating in the slightest, which meant Bruce had to dig deeper, back into the realm of his mind that remembered what to say to Dick when he looked like that. "I know I may have lost the right to listen, but I'm here if you want to talk."

Kal paced long enough for Bruce to pick his dinner up again. Just as he was about to dive on in Kal stopped in front of him again. "You know if I bothered you when we were kids you could have just told me."

Not the topic he would have thought was on Kal's mind. "What do you mean?"

"When I would help you with your homework or offer to stay with you so you would feel better on a night, you could have just told me I was being a bother. I would have listened."

This had Dick all over it. "What did he say?"

Kal shrugged, "Just told me what you wouldn't. I suppose I can see it now. I'm a stranger to him, one who is keeping the only friend he has locked away like a common criminal. And to you, I guess it didn't help that we spent so much time together. I knew you liked being alone, but… I guess you were the first kid my age I'd ever seen. I was maybe a bit too clingy."

"A bit," Bruce agreed. Be nice, he reminded himself. "However, since Dick I've realised kids are clingy. You were lonely, I was mean. Maybe if I had been less aggressive we both wouldn't have ended up like this."

Kal gave him a small smile, just itching slightly on his face before falling again. "I know that's not how you really feel Bruce. Still, thank you."

He didn't think about that. If he did, he wouldn't be able to keep his wits about him in this situation, and it wasn't over yet. "What did Dick say?"

"He'd had a nightmare, usually mother doesn't like me comforting him because you didn't like to be comforted. She doesn't understand that Terrans are different, just like Kryptonians were, and- well, I remembered what you said about him getting a good night's sleep. So, I went to comfort him, like I used to with you-"

"Oh God tell me you didn't get into bed with him," Bruce hissed, rage tingling in his palms again to just lay one on Kal if he so much as touched Dick.

Kal just rolled his eyes, "I'm an alien not an idiot," and was that a joke? From Kal? Someone had grown a backbone. "I just asked if he wanted to talk about it or get a glass of milk. He said he wanted you, I told him I couldn't get you and he said he didn't want anything from me in that case. Said he was suffocating under all the attention I was giving him."

"He's hurting," Bruce offered, figuring that no matter how mad he was at the El's Dick didn't deserve to suffer because he couldn't be there to help.

"You were hurting."

"I was polite," Bruce insisted. "If he has another one, make sure he has his elephant, and get him out of whatever clothes you put him to sleep in, I know for a fact there were some of his night clothes in the bag I packed. He needs something familiar, comforting. Maybe turn on the light as well, or a lamp, he's used to the circus lights." He tried to think of any other tricks he used to employ when he was on babysitting duty with Dick. Save for actually being Dick's resurrected parents there was little Kal could do. "Call him Dick too, he doesn't like Richard much."

"I know."

The advice must have worked since the next time Kal came down it was to take Bruce up to see a much more energised Dick. The workouts seemed like a weekly thing. Just after dinner, Kal would come down and drag Bruce up to the gym to let him play with Dick for an hour or two. It was the highlight of his life, breaking the monotony of the cave and his cell.

Until he got to the point where he was itching for it. For that warm enclosed space and the familiarity of the darkness. For structure, instead of Lara interrupting his playtime with Dick to take him up to the sleeping area of the manor and showing him his old room.

"We thought it was high time we gave it back."

It had changed. For one it had all of Kal's stuff out of it. All the papers that cluttered the table tops were gone, as were the suits and even the hairs from that damned dog that was lurking somewhere in the manor. Bruce knew it was still alive, he could hear it sometimes barking, the sound grating on his nerves when he was trying to sleep.

His childhood things were also missing. In their place were new clothes in his size. Nothing else. This was as much a cell as the one below, only this one had a better view.

"I'm afraid there are some rules Bruce," Lara said, stopping Bruce from further investigating the new changes. "You will have reign of the manor, this is your home after all. However, the fields beyond… Bruce you shattered our trust in you. While I want to believe we can make amends, I can't trust you not to run or tell if we let you back into society. Which brings us to our next rule. My husband has disabled all the landlines in the manor, save the one in the kitchen which is to be used only in an emergency. Please don't give him reason to put more restraints on you Bruce."

"The other rules?"

He wasn't to harm any of the manor's inhabitants. He was to listen when they spoke to him, and a few other rules that meant little to nothing compared to those big ones. He agreed to all of them. Regardless of his urge to crawl back into his dark cell this was slightly better he had to admit. Not only because he had a toilet.

They left him to settle in, Bruce not surprised that within the hour Dick was bounding into the room and jumping on his bed. "Does this mean you're better? Can we go back to the circus now?"

"No, sorry Dickie." The bouncing stopped, only for a moment before Dick decided that it was enough that Bruce was out of his cell. "But at least I can help you with your homework now."

Which he did while Dick told him stories about how horrible stuck up rich kids were. "We probably wouldn't have been friends if you were like that B."

"Well it's a good thing I wasn't."

Dick fell asleep half way through his history paper, Bruce sweeping them to the side so they wouldn't have to rewrite anything. It felt like some kind of dream being allowed this much time with Dick. Enough that he didn't find himself sleeping at all. Instead, he stole one of Dick's school books instead, letting the inky words on the page revive his worn out mind.

Around midnight, Kal came knocking at his door, looking relieved when he saw Dick snoozing at his side. "Mother sent me to find him."

"He's fine."

Kal lingered anyway. Only for a few moments. "He has to be up by half six."

"I know what time school is Kal."

Still, Alfred came to remind him at half past anyway, Dick yawning around the usual complaints any kid would when faced with the prospect of school.

"You'll be here when I get back, right?" Dick asked.

Bruce nodded, promising himself he wasn't going to screw this up. For Dick, he would make nice, behave and play by their rules. At least until he could find them a way out of here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im gonna fix the spelling mistakes and missing words. Bear with me

Life in the manor was interesting.

The first few days out of his cell Bruce spent it testing the boundaries and rules set down for him. During the day, there was no one around except Alfred and that damn dog. He thought at first he would be subjected to dog duty, but both man and dog were instructed to keep well out of Bruce's way.

Jor, Bruce knew, still ran his family's business, coming up with new and inventive ways to solve this or that of Earth's problems. Child's play, Bruce remembered him saying one evening, complaining about how behind this planet was compared to the rest of the galaxy.

Kal, Bruce knew, had a job in journalism, which meant he was gone and back around the same time as his father, or sometimes sooner if he was picking Dick up from school. Lara was the only wild card. She took Dick to school, and as far as Bruce knew she didn't have anywhere else to be during the day. Despite her brains, she had dedicated Kal's childhood to spending as much time with her little miracle as she could rather than pursue a career. Bruce thought she was overcompensating for almost losing him. However, now Kal was grown, Bruce didn't know what she did with her days.

She was there the first day Bruce was above ground, coming back after dropping Dick off to follow Bruce like a shadow as he toured the manor. The second, she didn't come back until Dick and Kal did. The third was the same as the second, the only problem was Bruce didn't know she wasn't coming back until she actually did, which made his plans of scoping the place out that much more complicated now he was constantly watching over his shoulder. To say he was on edge the fourth day was an understatement.

Regardless of who was in the house, Bruce had sort of a schedule to follow that also prevented some of his alone time. Breakfast was at eight if he wasn't up the same time as Dick. Lunch at one, and dinner at seven with the rest of the family. If Bruce missed just one, Alfred would have to report it or someone would come find him and not so subtly remind him of where he had to be. He was also expected to exercise for at least an hour, and bathe at set times where someone could supervise him, mostly Kal, if he needed to shave. It was like being a prisoner. Or a kid again. He remembered a structure much like this save the supervised shaving when he had been fifteen.

When he finally did get out, sure enough the perimeter Lara set out for him had been reinforced with security measures. The gate had cameras and remote recognition along with other, unfamiliar, orbs that circled to the edge of the fields at the back of the estate. He got the feeling these orbs did more than just sound an alarm.

There were, of course, also parts of the manor he wasn't allowed in despite Lara saying he had free reign. The kitchen was one, which, he'd always been sort of banned from after it was proven he had no culinary skills. Another was Jor and Lara's room which, even Bruce had a hard time thinking why he would want to go in there. The cave, for superman reasons was now off limits and also the manor's garage, to which Bruce was a little put out about. He wasn't going to do a runner, yet, so they really had nothing to fear about him using one of the cars to escape in. The most he would probably do would be just sit in one, maybe pretend he was moving and going somewhere far beyond Gotham.

When he had finally exhausted the boundaries set out for him he would do something less irksome with his days. Usually, he found himself in the makeshift gym, swinging off the trapeze or napping in the net, just pretending he was back home, his real home, and everything was normal again. Sometimes he wished he could wander down here on a night, his bed was too familiar and held too many memories of sleepless nights. But he knew Jor would be on him like a dog with a bone if he so much as stepped out of bed when it got dark, so he sucked it up.

"I want to remind you we have a gala on Saturday," Jor said, looming in Bruce's doorway.

"Here?"

Of course, here, Bruce just liked to see the beginnings of irritation on Jor's face when he repeated himself. He didn't know yet whether Jor had figured out Bruce was just messing with him or if humans really were that ditzy with information. Either way, he said it once more, storming off before Bruce could ask something else.

"What's a gala?" Dick asked.

They were huddled on Bruce's bed, supposedly reading about the civil war so Dick could catch up in his classes. But both of them had long since accepted that Dick used Bruce's room as his own these days, and would rather talk about anything but school. He didn't blame the kid.

"Just a rich person thing," Bruce explained. "The elite gather together to make themselves feel better by throwing their money at one cause or another. Usually it's to do with kids. Helps them sleep easier when they see them on the streets if they know it's not their fault this or that kid hasn't been helped."

"Seems kind of dumb. Why don't they just go out there and actually hand out blankets?"

"Because they're kind of dumb." He hadn't heard what this weekend was about, but if it was anything like the gala's he remembered as a kid it wouldn't be pleasant. "What kind of monkey suit they got for you then?"

Dick pulled a face, three long suffering moans and a small roll around before telling Bruce about his new tuxedo. They were sticking with the primary colours again, going a step further this time in making Dick's whole suit a nice baby blue. "Yeah, laugh now Bruce, but you'll look just as dumb in yours."

Bruce still gave a chuckle as he said, "No I won't, I'm not going."

If they didn't trust him outside the manor he doubted they would trust him inside the manor with lots of people around. The only reason Jor was telling him was to warn him they would be having guests. Bruce was to pretend he didn't exist while the gala was in swing. If he so much as stepped outside his room he was sure Jor would be hauling off to his little cell below the manor again.

"So unfair," Dick pouted, slapping Zitka on Bruce's chest a few times when the chuckles started again.

The gala came, sure enough, with Jor herding Bruce to his room after lunch. "Alfred will be by with dinner at seven. I trust you to keep yourself occupied while we have guests."

"Yeah, don't want them finding out about me."

The hand clapping down on his shoulder was just shy of painful as Jor pushed him gently beyond his doorway. "Just do as you're told."

Dick came by before the first guests arrived in his blue suit, looking as unhappy as he could be as he let Bruce attempt to tie his tie. "I hate this."

"I know."

"Are you sure we can't just leave?" Dick begged, pulling at the knot at his throat until Bruce had to do it all over again. "How did you run away the first time?"

"With great skill," Bruce sidestepped, knowing great luck had more to do with skill. It wasn't that they didn't know he was out of bed. Really, he didn't know what had been on their minds when he went out the manor that night, but their hearing and speed should have had Bruce locked up tight before he could even make it to the circus. "And we can't leave Dickie. You have a gala to get to. Besides, I thought you always wanted to meet Superman. You telling me you aren't enjoying getting all up and personal with him?"

Dick pulled another face, Bruce agreeing with it whole heartedly. "I'll try and sneak you a cupcake?" Dick offered instead.

"Sure."

Then Bruce was left alone. Not an unheard concept really, and when he was younger he would have itched to be in this kind of situation. However, it's one thing to want to be alone in his room as a child, and another to be stuck there with no other choice. He could hear the party as it started, the band that had probably been chosen weeks before strumming their instruments as chatter echoed up the halls. People, real people, were down there.

He did his best to distract himself, reading, even chancing some sit ups when he figured the noise wouldn't be overheard by the party below. Both scenarios only had his mind wandering, wondering what would happen if he just told someone what was going on. If he found a way to blend in with the people below, hide out in a car, or even just walk out the gate that would probably be open all night. He could be free. He would be free. But to do so he would have to leave Dick behind. There was no way he could sneak out with Dick as well. Not in this situation. The primary colours worked well after all, well enough that when Bruce would sometimes hide under tables Jor and Lara always knew exactly where he was.

So he couldn't. Not without Dick, he wouldn't do that to the boy.

Eventually he found himself doing Dick's homework for him, doodling in the margins and figuring if the teachers were going to tell Dick off for anything it wouldn't be his school work. It made him remember his own school days, wondering what would have happened to him had he stayed or even graduated from his own home schooling. He could have had a job, probably at W.E. He could have went to college and… well, he doubted Lara and Jor would have allowed him to go out of state so what was the point of even imagining that life? Really, his running away was probably the only way he could have been free of these people.

Something clattered off his window at half nine. He thought it was a bird before it came again, a precise tap just on the pane. Bruce chanced tip toeing over to it, opening it enough that something flew into his bedroom as soon as the gap appeared.

When he looked down to the garden all he saw was a man stumbling around while the three girls tailing him held him up. They were soon back inside before Bruce could get a better look. Not that it mattered. What did was what the guy had thrown into Bruce's room. They had been smart about it, too smart, which meant Bruce had more than an idea about who had bought the cell phone now lying on his floor.

There was only one number registered in the list. No photos in the sim card or even history in the web. It was a brand new model with only a single text asking _'Failed?'_

He should have known Lex would want to check in. _'Completely.'_ Bruce sent back.

 _'Shame. Destroy this,'_ and Lex Luthor officially had no more to do with Bruce's attack on Gotham.

He deleted the number like Lex wanted, but as for the phone, to destroy it in a place he had so little would be foolish. Especially since this was the first thing with contact to the outside world he'd been given. Another thing about living with the El's was that he soon realised there was no electronics. No helpful electronics anyway. Laptops, TV's and phones were all hidden away from Bruce, save the landline Lara had told him about. He'd considered eventually breaking into Kal's room to search for his laptop, since he knew a reporter had to have one. Looked like he wouldn't need to.

The first thing he did was open the web. With so many people downstairs and the wifi being maxed he was sure one new phone added to the mix wouldn't make much of a difference to Jor's technology. Despite not wanting to know, he had to be sure about what effects his little payback had. He was slightly surprised at the death toll. It turned out, with so many attacks like Bruce's happening, Gotham had grown wise to keeping themselves safe. Really, the only deaths there had been caused from mass looting and bombs Bruce certainly had nothing to do with. That didn't mean his conscience was completely clear, but at least he was safe in the knowledge that it wasn't his hands that had done it.

Huh, he wondered if this was how they justified themselves too. The ones in Arkham. It was so easy to put the blame on someone else…

He didn't dwell, he couldn't dwell. When he was away from Gotham with Dick doing somersaults in the ring he would think back on it then. Until that happened however, he wouldn't think about what he'd done. So, he moved on.

Superman was a big factor on his escape, and it looked like Kal had his hands full these days. Along with villains breaking out of Arkham and Metropolis wreaking havoc every now and then, he also had articles to submit for his real job as well. Most of them, Bruce was surprised to see weren't about his alter ego. However, it all just proved how powerful Kal really was. Bruce had barely pulled off his last stunt, and at that time he had his anonymity. Now, he was under surveillance, Kal knew his face and wasn't a stranger to his powers. He would be just as hard as Jor and Lara to shake now.

When looking up Superman and Gotham just bummed him out more than he was, he turned to means of distraction again, pulling up circus videos and wishing he could hear the roar of the crowd through his silenced screen.

At first, he thought it was just wishful thinking, or too much reminiscing that had him hearing that scream that haunted his more recent nightmares. In an instant he was transported from his room at Wayne Manor and back to the ringside, listening to Dick scream over and over again as his family lay motionless below. Yet, he was awake, and the nightmare vanished to his bookcase and bed but the scream still continued.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Dick screeched, the door to Bruce's room violently opening to let Kal and a struggling Dick in. "Let me go Kal!" He was crying, hitting and kicking Kal where he could reach. Only, one of his hands wasn't hitting properly, Bruce noted it slack, one long noodle dangling and swinging when it should be aiming and moving. He was off his bed and taking Dick off Kal's hands as soon as they came in.

"What the hell did you do?" his own shove at Kal the man took, rolling with it enough for Bruce to barely feel where he'd hit invulnerable skin. "Dick? Where does it hurt?"

"Shoulder," he sobbed, the screaming telling Bruce it was probably something bad. Dick had received injuries in his training. He'd had cuts and sprains. He'd even broken a few things, and when he did, Dick was nothing if not a drama queen.

Bruce didn't even try to preserve the suit as found the scissors they were using earlier to make paper hats to rip the shoulder from its seam. Moving it about too much would cause more damage, so in practicality the El's should have nothing to shout at him about. "What happened? What the hell did you do?" he asked Kal.

"It wasn't me," Kal defended, straightening his tuxedo. "Mother-"

"Go away!" Even if Kal didn't do it, Dick didn't want him there, and neither did Bruce.

Sparing another rip at Dick's suit, he pushed Kal again until he was across the thresh hold and Bruce could safely slam the door in his face. It wasn't much against a man who had super strength but hopefully the message that they didn't want Kal around would sink in. When they didn't hear or see Kal breaking down the door, Bruce assumed he'd gone and went back to seeing the damage.

Dick's shoulder was already black when skin began to show. A clear imprint of fingers shadowed into a curl on the front of Dick's chest, while the yellow around the top of his shoulder showed the clear separation between joint and socket. Someone had dislocated Dick's arm.

"What happened?" It took more than he possessed to stay calm in front of Dick.

A few hiccups and more hissing than Dick needed to give had him spilling the whole story as Bruce tested how bad it was. Apparently, the night had been going well. Dick had been introduced to the high life of Gotham, forced to listen to more and more boring talk of work and charity stuff. Bruce could already guess how quickly Dick's attention wandered, and when Dick was bored, well, he was extremely unpredictable. Tonight, Dick decided to make a little food pile to bring back up to Bruce, burrowing cakes and other sweets in his pockets that were now a melted sticky mess when Dick fished them out. He also took to swinging off some of the tables. By the time the El's caught up to him he was recounting stories to Gotham's elite about the time Bruce and him decided to dye all of the strong man's clothes bright pink. Lara had been worried, Bruce thought, that Dick was telling some story about them, not Bruce, and tried to bring him off the table. Things got worse when she realised he was talking about Bruce. If there was one thing they wanted it was to keep Bruce out of public speculation for the time being. Another yank and Lara pulled Dick's arm out of its socket.

Kal was on hand to whisk him away, no doubt Lara was spinning some tale about overdramatic children to the guests downstairs. Bruce didn't care. They had pulled his arm out of its socket.

"Okay Dickie bird, got some bad news for you." There was no way Bruce could fix this on his own. Alfred probably could, the man had credentials even Bruce didn't know about. But as for him, he'd never had to attend to more than the odd scraped knee. In theory, he knew what to do, but practice was a whole other thing.

Unfortunately, Alfred would be down attending to the coming and going guests, the most Bruce could do now was put something cool on the joint to soothe it. The worst thing was he didn't even have ice. Settling for a cool towel, he fished Zitka out of Dick's things and let the kid cry it out.

 _Don't do anything, don't do anything_ , Bruce repeated to himself like a mantra as he sat with Dick the rest of the night. "Wanna go home," was the repeated phrase of the night, and Bruce wanted nothing more than to give it to him. He had long since lost the hysterics, preferring to spend his time now whimpering into Bruce's shirt, wiping his nose all over it since he only had use of one good hand.

 _Don't do anything._ But oh, how he wanted to. Lara should have known better than to tug too hard. She had been on this planet long enough to control her powers. No, this had to be something more. Maybe they had found out about the phone, or they were punishing Bruce for something else he couldn't think of.

It had to be something, he refused to believe this was an accident.

 _Don't do anything._ He could do anything, not if he wanted Dick to be okay. Not if he wanted freedom. This had to be an accident, motive be damned it was nothing but an accident, otherwise he wouldn't be able to stay in the manor. Otherwise, he would go down there and show those guests exactly what kind of creatures they were breaking bread with.

So, it was an accident. Lara must have her lapses from time to time. It wouldn't be the first. Bruce remembered when they had first landed and she had broken half the manor because she didn't understand her new found strength. She had just needed to learn, and even years later she had sometimes broken things because she had been neglectful of her own strength.

This was one of those times. Just one of those times.

"I wanna go home," Dick said for who knew how many times that night.

"Me too."

Dick's head thunked back onto Bruce's chest, a whole new round of tears falling as he curled up tighter on Bruce's lap. What was taking them so long?

Eventually, the noise downstairs dwindled and then silenced completely. By that time, the early morning hours had begun, and Bruce had calmed himself enough that when Kal poked his head through with Alfred he was nothing but courteous.

Dick, on the other hand, started hissing as soon as he saw Kal. "Get out, I don't want to see you."

Kal didn't seem too offended by Dick's attitude as he nodded, "I know. But mother wants you down for breakfast once Alfred has finished with your arm. She wants to apologise again-"

Dick reared up as much as he could with Alfred holding one shoulder and the rest of him glomped around Bruce. "Tell her she can keep it. I don't want to hear it, and if you think I'm coming down for breakfast then you can take that cape you think I don't know about and stick it up your ass. Get out."

Bruce didn't know if Kal was more shocked with the fact he'd just been outed with Superman or the language Dick used. Not that it really mattered since one or the other had Kal flitting off to relay Dick's message to the rest of the house.

When he was gone, Bruce accepted Dick resting back onto him, quite proud really at the way Dick stood up for himself. Sometimes with how cheery the boy was, it was hard to remember he had a temper just as bad as his mother's simmering below the surface. His tantrums had been legendary back at the circus, and, despite knowing that some kind of reprimand was coming for it, Bruce was happy at least one of them could say the words that were needed to these people.

Popping Dick's shoulder back in was one drama hysteria after another. He was complaining even before Alfred touched him, and when it was over demanded he couldn't walk it hurt so bad, so Bruce had to take him to the bed himself.

"It's your arm not your legs," Bruce said even as he dropped Dick onto the sheets. He turned to Alfred when Dick was settled, asking him to bring some breakfast up. Alfred was more than understanding, promising, that even if Lara tore down the kitchen Dick would get his breakfast.

"And Bruce," Dick tacked on.

Bruce sighed, wishing he could just let that hang there. "Actually Dick I'm going to go down. One of us has to."

Dick was a smart kid, he could read between the lines when he wanted to, and since the pair of them had, more than once, been in trouble back at the circus, they knew that the blame for Dick's words had to be put on someone. As the oldest, and Dick's unofficial guardian Bruce took on that responsibility. Not to mention he had his schedule to stick to. Who knows what might happen if he skipped breakfast this particular morning.

Dick put a little fight, but eventually sucked it up and was pouting at the ceiling as Bruce went down to the kitchen.

The El's were there when he got down. Changed and still prim after a night with no sleep, Jor and Lara were talking in quick Kryptonian by the stove. He tried to catch some of it, any of it, but this seemed like a private conversation from even Kal as they used another use for their super speed to keep him out of it.

Kal was the only one, save Bruce to still have his clothes on from the night before, not that Bruce really needed changing in the first place. Ruffled as his suit was, Kal looked oddly human as he sat with his hands in his hair staring at nothing at the breakfast bar.

"Morning," Bruce spared for him.

Kal, still lost in his thoughts, didn't even move. His parents on the other hand, soon went into normal family mode and sent their customary good mornings to Bruce and a slightly burnt plate of eggs before him.

Breakfast that morning was long. Not the usual time at eight, the El's seemed to be stretching it out until the normal time zones of the manor could be restored. As for the time in between, well, Jor and Lara spent most of it in their quick conversation, the pair of them not even trying to look normal after ten minutes and no Dick appeared. They used their speed to move and eat, even flew when Jor decided it was too much hassle using a chair to get the coffee grinds.

If Bruce didn't know any better he would have thought they were fighting.

Kal, throughout it all, seemed to be dead to the world. He didn't move, or speak, he didn't even eat when his own breakfast was clattered down on the bench. Bruce didn't know what was more weird, and was the happiest man alive when he was able to escape back to his room.

Saturday, since it was a Saturday, consisted of Dick being one of the most stubborn kids in the world, and Bruce being quite proud because of it.

When breakfast was considered a failure, Lara interrupted nap time in Bruce's room to try and convey her apologies. Unfortunately for her, she not only chose the wrong time to give it, but she tacked on at the end that maybe Dick would be more comfortable away from Bruce and in his own room so he could get some proper sleep. Bruce didn't even try and stop Dick as he screamed bloody murder at her, instead, he hunkered down and rode out hurricane Dick by grabbing another few minutes sleep.

Jor was the next to try his luck, and, of course, being the man he was, went about it the wrong way too. "This is getting childish Richard," he reprimanded, having started on the disappointed road, no doubt hoping Dick's respect for authority would have him bowing down and apologising himself for his behaviour. Wrong move there. If there was anything Bruce would take pride in Dick's upbringing it was that he had taught him how to use his words. Which was why, on that Saturday morning Bruce witnessed Dick starting with why it was a poor choice of words to say he was being childish since he was a child and end with a scathing remark on how ridiculous his reasoning was for why Dick should be the one grovelling in this situation.

Lunch they had in Bruce's room. Dick made Bruce carry him to the staircase to shout down that he was keeping Bruce hostage since they had made him immobile.

"Your legs work fine," Bruce had piped in, to which he was shushed at as Dick gave his lunch order.

The afternoon, Bruce refused to stay in his room any longer and dragged Dick outside just so he could breathe the fresh air. It was here Kal caught them. He had finally changed out of his suit and into a pair of sweats. Bruce had never seen him in sweats before, not this age anyway- it was a bit weird.

He had Krypto the hell hound at his side, the dog the most excited Bruce had ever seen it and looking just as healthy and young as it did before Bruce left. Thankfully, Kal kept the mutt by his side.

It was a good tactic, Bruce thought as Kal knelt to Dick's height. Dick loved animals, any animal, and even if the dog was an alien Bruce could see Dick itching to get his hands in that fur. But if he did he would be conceding defeat.

"How's your arm?" Kal asked, keeping well away from them.

Bruce thought for a moment Dick would crack, however, the boys will was stronger than Bruce's sometimes as he huffed, "Like you care."

"I do," Kal said, sounding the most sincere out of the El's when he did.

He supposed Kal, for all his powers, had always been the most sensitive to others pain. Which was why Bruce got his great idea. Things were moving too slowly for his liking, and since his new status as above house guest, he hadn't the chance to see what nice would get him. As hard as it was to admit, Bruce needed to see what Kal would do for him. So, he crouched down next to Dick. "You know, it wasn't Kal's fault. I know your arm hurts, and I know you're angry, but remember, Kal brought you to me when it happened. He didn't have to."

Dick mulled that over while Bruce said a few more nice things about Kal. How he had always been nice to Dick. How he didn't try and force him to do stuff he didn't like. Bruce even told the story about the time Bruce broke his foot. It had been a hard day, Bruce wishing, not for the first time, that his parents were back so he wouldn't have to celebrate his birthday with the El's. There were no presents, save the small one Alfred always hid somewhere around the manor for him, since he had never wanted the El's to know when his birthday was. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to be around anyone and had tried to make a run for the caves. He had been in the middle of scaling one of the walls when Jor caught him, grabbing that bit too hard and crushing Bruce's foot. Kal had been the only one to bring him ice cream since he'd seen it on TV. He'd stayed with Bruce too through most of his days off school, drawing on Bruce's cast after he'd seen some other kids in Bruce's class doing it to another kid. Jor hadn't said anything after it happened, save telling Kal to let Bruce sulk in silence since it was apparently all his fault to begin with. So, no, Kal wasn't the bad guy here.

It seemed to work. Slowly, the crossed arms and pout left until Dick was shuffling his feet saying, "I guess my arm's okay Kal. S'gunna hurt for a while though."

"I know," and just like that Krypto was out of Kal's command and wagging his tail in front of Dick.

Bruce kept well clear when the super pooch looked like it wanted to give him a thorough hello, letting Dick lavish enough attention for the both of them on it.

"I hate your dog," He said when Kal came to stand next to him.

"I know. But, like you used to say to me, suck it up, he lives here too."

It was like a weight had been lifted, the longer Dick scratched Krypto's ear with his good hand the bigger Kal's smile got. He turned it on Bruce with a "Thank you for what you said. I've been feeling so bad. I heard it come out and then, well, mother said a doctor would cause a scene and sending Alfred would raise suspicion. I was going to try and put it back in myself since I can see the joints. But, yeah… thank you,' x-ray vision, and that was a dark day Bruce witnessed Kal getting that power. "I can't believe you remembered me bringing you ice cream."

Bruce shrugged, wanting to say that Kal had got his favourite flavour wrong, but worried it would spoil the comradery. He needed Kal to be in a good mood, to think of this as a good deed if he wanted his reward.

Thankfully, Kal didn't stay long with them. He hung around long enough to make sure Krypto wouldn't hurt Dick any further, before the two of them retreated into the manor. However, that wouldn't be the last they saw of Kal that day, at dinner, just when Dick was about to 'kidnap' Bruce again, Kal came in with two plates already full with Dick's favourites and promised he would keep his parents well clear if they came asking.

Sunday passed in much the same progression, Dick avoiding the older El's in favour of hanging around with Bruce. It was only when Monday came and Dick couldn't put off the prospect of school that he finally started talking to the rest of the manor. Even then it was just to order the El's about, telling Lara he wanted no talk when she drove him to school since Alfred was forced to stay home to make Bruce breakfast.

Just like that, tentative as it was, order was restored to the manor.

Bruce in the week that passed, thought he would never see a reward for his kindness. There wasn't much, really, that Kal could do for him after all, and since he wasn't in his cell anymore visits with Dick were out of the question.

Yet, Friday night Kal came peeking his head through Bruce's door. "My parents are out at another function," He said, eyeing Dick napping to Bruce's left. "Is he asleep?"

Bruce only hesitated a minute before saying "Yes."

Kal beamed at him, making silent motions out the door. Curiosity getting the better of him he followed Kal through the manor until they got to the front door. "We can't be long, and you can't tell my parents," Kal warned before Bruce was hauled up into Kal's arms and they were taking flight.

For a reward he had to admit this was a good one. Kal didn't go too fast, as soon as they were at a good height he shifted Bruce into a more comfortable position and just floated leisurely over Gotham. It was beautiful, the night lights shining through the smoggy clouds. It had been too long since he'd seen it, and despite the yearning in his chest to run away, to get out of this hell, he was a Gothamite at heart. He loved this city just as much as he hated it.

Overall, they were out for about ten minutes. Throughout it all they didn't speak. Bruce didn't have words anyway, and Kal, when he looked at him, had that stupid smile still on his face as he watched Bruce take it all in.

The manor was a sorry sight when it came up. Bruce hopped out of Kal's arms as soon as they touched ground, about to make a run for it before he remembered to play nice. He didn't move so fast after that, following Kal as he strolled back to the sleeping quarters of the manor.

"That was sweet of you."

Kal nudged his shoulder like they were old friends. "I know how stuffy it can get here." He stopped them just before they got to the corridor. "Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you alone for a while now. It's about what you did. My parents are against it, but I was thinking, maybe if I took a couple of classes or we found someone we know wouldn't tell, who you could be honest with, that we could get you some help."

Help. Kal was talking about psychiatrists. Bruce didn't really know what to do about that. He'd never really considered the possibility that they would actually approach him with something like this. The whole reason he left the first time was so he wasn't put in Gotham's psychiatric hands. With the prospect of it coming up again the familiar urge to bolt came as well. But, as Kal said, Jor was against it. Lara even more so since she was all about saving face in front of the humans. He could agree, and nothing might come of it, or he could disagree and send Kal off with more worry that there was something wrong.

It went against everything he had, but in times like these, he reminded himself, sacrifices had to be made. Not to mention, if they did bring someone in that may bring up more opportunities for Bruce to try and escape. "I- if you think that would help, I have no problem with you trying."

"I do. You'll see Bruce, I promise, I'm going to try and help you."

He wanted to help, he would get Bruce out of there.

But he wouldn't. Not yet. So, Bruce plastered on a smile and bid Kal goodnight, more sure than ever now that Kal was his way out of this mess.


	6. Chapter 6

Teeth bit gently at his neck, kissing the place afterwards. Bruce took it all in stride, pretending it didn't happen and wishing more than anything that Kal would hurry up already.  

He shifted his hips, still not completely used to the new sensation as Kal rocked into him again. Slowly, like he did most things tonight.  

He had hoped all that repression and eagerness would mean a brief three minutes of fucking and Bruce would be free to go. He should have known that wouldn't be the case. With his life that was never the case. 

He spread his thighs wider, hooking them around the back of Kal's ass and nudging him forward, faster than he had gone before. A harsh breath dusted his cheek, Kal blinking like a confused owl, all wide eyed. Bruce kept the frustration off his face, offering a small smile and another nudge, moaning into it so Kal got the hint.  

A blinding grin met him, Kal ducking his head to nip along Bruce's jaw. "I want us to enjoy this," he said, his pace resuming no matter how many times Bruce tried to put a little more force behind it. 

Eventually, he gave up, relaxing his thighs and riding out the relentlessly slow thrusts by thinking of something else. He needed to make sure Dick got to school tomorrow. Not to mention he had to be up himself since Jor was going on that business trip. Bruce needed to make sure that Jor believed he was going to behave himself while he was gone, otherwise he might never leave.  

One, two thrusts that literally tore the breath out of Bruce's lungs later and Kal was stilling, Bruce feeling a heat that had to be because of Kal's physiology filling him up.  

Bruce came back to himself just in time for Kal to lift his head. Bruce cupped his jaw, showering Kal with all the practiced affection he could until the man was pulling out and nuzzling into his side. "That was amazing," Kal sighed, his hand running down Bruce's chest, stopping at his hip. "You didn't..." 

"No," Bruce agreed, fending off the hand that tried to reach for him. "I didn't. But not many men do from full intercourse. Don't worry, I'll take care of it." He distracted Kal with plentiful kisses before another round could be proposed. That was all Bruce needed right now.  

When Bruce had thought this was the best course of action to get out of this prison, he hadn't actually thought through just how much effort it would take. At first, he thought he would, at least, have to subject himself to bending over every now and then. But, of course, everything with Kal was ten times harder than it had to be. To begin with, he had to actually make friends with Kal, and when he was at that stage he hadn't even thought about changing it to something romantic. He probably should have. Maybe if he had things wouldn't have taken twice as long and three times more difficult.  

One would think since they were friends as children, it would have been as easy as anything for them to do it again. However, now they were older, and Bruce had almost destroyed his family that didn't seem to be the case anymore. Kal had to believe Bruce was sincere in his attempts to start with, which was harder than it was since Bruce couldn't outright do nice things and call it a turnaround.  

As children, he had never been affectionate. It took time for him to learn what behaviours were acceptable, and even now he still had to have a reference to go off before he was sure something he did was nice or not. He envied Dick in the early days of his attempts to befriend Kal. The boy wasn't awkward, or confused about social cues. He didn't have to wonder about his every move and simply knew it from the outset that this was right or wrong. He could go up to Kal and hand him over a cupcake with only the best intentions and it would be greeted as a sign of friendship. But, if Bruce did it, suspicion behind the act would follow. 

Bruce swore, if he tried the same stunt Dick did he would have Jor making him taste test it himself just to prove it wasn't laced with some kind of poison. He couldn't be nice, therefore, because he didn't know how to show niceness, and the El's knew so. Which meant, when Bruce needed to get Kal on his side he had to resort to other methods of persuasion. He had to disguise his intentions really. 

For example, he couldn't give the cupcake over himself without being scrutinized. However, if he made the cupcakes for himself and there just happened to be one spare, he could let Dick hand that last one over to Kal if the boy wanted. That allowance was the kindness, the inclusion, and it really made Bruce wonder how screwed up in the head he was that he had to think about all of this just to give Kal a freaking cupcake.  

Of course, that wasn't the only thing he had to do. Friendships weren't built on cupcakes after all. So, for the next few weeks Bruce had to slowly but surely come up with new and inventive ways to convince Kal that he was warming up to him. In short, a trial. 

But still, nothing compared to actually trying to convince Kal that he had romantic feelings for him. 

Really, at the time, Bruce had been forgetting about the lingering looks and prolonged touches that graced the beginning of his time upstairs. His brain had filed away that Kal liked him, but at the time there wasn't a use for it, nor a want, so his brain tried to forget they happened when they did. That wasn't to say they weren't noticed, or catalogued away. Merely pushed to the side while he tried to think on more important things at the time.  

It was Jor's fault, as everything always was, that Bruce eventually decided to pursue Kal. It had started with the good behaviour Bruce had shown, Jor becoming more and more suspicious the longer Bruce remained above ground. It became apparent, after a while, that Jor hadn't expected Bruce to be around this long. He had hoped Bruce would crack, would show the El's just why he deserved to be locked away in the cave. Whether that be from a display of violence or harsh words Bruce didn't know, but the longer he stayed up there with none of the above forthcoming the more agitated Jor grew. 

It got to a point during dinner where Jor didn't even try to make nice or rile Bruce up. In Kryptonian, he turned to Lara and hissed  _"I say we put him back in his cell tomorrow."_  

 _"Jor,"_ she cautioned, her eyes not on her husband but on her son who had stopped his conversation with Dick to listen in.  

Naturally, Jor didn't take heed of Lara's warnings as he ploughed on  _"I'm serious. He's being too well behaved. He's up to something. I want him back where we can control him."_  

Kal scoffed before Jor even finished,  _"Control? Father, listen to yourself. What happened to the man who appealed to the council day in and day out to listen to him. Who gave them time after time even when they killed our planet, to change their minds. Who still asked before we left whether they had a chance of survival if we stayed. Why can't you accept that Bruce might be behaving well because he doesn't want to end up back in that prison. He's not an idiot father, he's trying to make some peace with us."_  

 _"He's up to something,"_  Jor insisted 

 _"He's up to nothing. It's you who's up to something father. Trying to trick Bruce into snapping just so you can prove you're right."_  

 _"I am right!"_  

Their voices raised, loud enough for Bruce to call it a fight. They didn’t lessen, and instead grew worse. It got to the point where Alfred eventually intervened to take Bruce and Dick to their rooms, cake following not long after. 

Since Bruce didn't wake up in his cave cell he figured Kal had won.  

At least, until the next evening when another fight broke out. For almost a week straight all Bruce heard were Kal and Jor's voices echoing through the manor. Dick avoided them like the plague, both

of them which didn't help Bruce gain brownie points.  

Just the look on Jor's face when Dick hid his head in Bruce's neck when they went past was enough for Bruce to spend the night awake in fear of every noise, every creak until sunrise came and he was still in his bed.  

Around the eighth or ninth fight, just when Bruce thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, Kal stormed into Bruce's room. Bruce felt his limbs locking, his fists clenching in preparation of a fight even if he would lose. Only, Kal didn't grab him. 

Instead, he speared him a glance and slumped down into the chair near Bruce's desk. "Can I stay here for a while?" 

So, no sudden arrest. Interesting. "Sure." 

Kal didn't say much through the night, just sat on the chair, his elbows to his knees and stared at nothing. Somehow, Bruce drifted off, waking to sunlight and his covers pulled tight around his face.  

The next few nights found Kal retreating to Bruce's room again, sitting in the exact same chair, sometimes bringing work to do through the night. Mostly, he acted like Bruce didn't exist. Save for asking permission, he didn't speak to Bruce at all. It was odd.

Eventually it got to the point where Bruce was the one to make first contact. As soon as another fight ended with Kal in his room, he waited until the residual anger subsided before crawling to the edge of his bed. Kal ignored the eyes on his face for a good half hour before glancing up, those unearthly blues questioning Bruce like he was the intruder in the room. "Why do you come here?" Bruce asked. 

For a moment, he didn't think Kal would answer, he had turned back to the book he'd brought with him, flipping through a few pages before he said, "It's soothing. When you left, before, I didn't know what had happened to you. The first few weeks I thought you were hiding, you were always good at that, and I simply couldn't find you. After that, when father came home telling us you were gone... I don't know. I guess you spent so much time in here it felt like I was sitting with your ghost. You always were the best company," he tacked on at the end. 

Bruce swallowed that information. Jor had been the one to call off the search, an interesting tid-bit. However, what his brain latched onto now was Kal's dependence on him. Even now, when they were older Kal had found solace in him, although who knew why. He had been staying in here when Bruce broke in, a way to keep close to him maybe? It was a sad thought. One he hadn't completely let himself think about since this was Kal and Kal... well, he was Jor's son. But that didn't make him Jor. 

"You know," Bruce piped in hours later, "Most men at your age move out of their childhood home. Find a place of their own, with their own rules, their own family. If you don't want to keep fighting with your father you don't have to hang around." 

"I have my own place," was the immediate response. 

"You do?" 

He did, in Metropolis in fact, which answered the question how people didn't get suspicious about the two hour commute every day. It was near his place of work at the daily planet, and as for starting a family, he had an ex that worked in the same building as him. 

"Wait, so if you have your own place then why are you hanging around here?" The answer was obvious even before Kal gave him a pointed look. Bruce. That was why he stuck around, because Bruce was here. Either he thought his presence here was helping or he was here to protect Bruce from Jor, but the answer still stood that Kal was here because Bruce was. 

He dropped the subject before guilt could begin to stir in his brain. Thankfully, Kal was on the same page as he turned to Bruce's least favourite topic in the house these days: therapy. 

Kal hadn't been kidding about taking classes if he couldn't find anyone discreet, or Jor approved to take a look at Bruce. He had started with doctors, taking Bruce to some sessions or bringing the doctors to the manor when Jor had started objecting. They diagnosed him pretty quickly, despite the little information he was both wanting and allowed to give. 

Kal didn't agree with them however, and took it upon himself to understand better his idea as to why Bruce thought or acted the way he did. It was mostly amusing these days when they talked, unlike the beginning when Bruce feared he would end up in Arkham if he said the wrong thing. These days, Kal had ink blots and writing exercises for Bruce to try, always new and always fun to mess with. 

He didn't know if Kal caught on or cared that Bruce wasn't taking this seriously. Knowing him, he probably read in to the way Bruce made fun of these exercises and tried to make some sense of them. Nevertheless, he was relentless in his goal to get Bruce back in the right state of mind and pushed his new exercise Bruce's way as he started another chapter on human psyche.  

"I need you to start keeping a dream journal. Write them down as soon as you wake, even if you don't have them."  

Fun. 

He took the book, letting Kal get back to his text in peace as he settled down for the night.  

The dream journal was a difficult thing to keep it turned out. Despite wanting to keep in Kal's good books, he couldn't write some of the things his subconscious dreamt up down on paper. It might have been fear in seeing for himself what he knew he was ignoring, or just fear that Kal would take one look and deem him a lost cause. So he couldn't write it how he should. He knew however, that Kal could tell between real and fake, and so, when Kal broke the silence the next time he fought with Jor, Bruce knew what was coming.  

"I think maybe dreams were a bit too soon this early on." Or, not. He had thought Kal would at least snap at him to try and be serious with this. "We should try something else." So, the tests continued.  

As did life at the manor.  

It was one night after the fights had died to one room shouting matches, and Dick could poke his head out of Bruce's neck to look at the rest of the manor that things took a turn for the worst. Jor and Lara were out for the evening, the two of them having some charity event to cover and naturally, taking Alfred with them. 

Jor had stared Bruce down for a solid fifteen minutes, not saying anything, but his eyes promising the cell if something were to happen to his son while he was away. 

Kal was in charge as soon as the car drove out of sight. The first thing he did was call Bruce and Dick down to a spread of most of their favourite meals. Dick, naturally, was delighted with the food, taking more than his fill and half of Bruce's too before suspicion set in. 

"What's all this for?" He asked, "You didn't break something of mine, did you?"  

Kal scrunched his nose, "No, why would I make a meal just to tell you I broke something?" His sincerity had Dick believing him, and also Bruce having to ignore the questioning eyes turning to him when Dick answered that was why Bruce used to do back in the circus. In his defence, the most he had broken was one of Zitka's legs, and that he fixed as soon as he could. The mean had merely been a distraction as he worked through the wonders of sewing.  

Kal shook off the question as he told them about the real reason they were gathered there that night. "A scavenger hunt," He announced. "And the best part is there's a prize at the end." 

Something was off about this, but Dick was delighted the more he heard about it so Bruce held his tongue. Really, why wouldn't the boy be happy, he had a chance to fully explore the manor without Jor breathing down his neck.  

The scavenger hunt was simple, obviously created with Dick in mind. The clues led them to different parts of the manor where they would solve riddles or perform silly skits to get another clue. It was while they were in the garage that Bruce realised what was wrong. This wasn't just a hunt. It was a test. 

One he didn't think Kal had come up with all on his own.  

They were rooting around in one of the cars, all of them open for once, trying to find the slip of paper that would lead them to their next clue. "It said where maps were kept," Dick pouted, turning another GPS on its head.  

"Maybe we're thinking about this wrong. 'Maps were kept' doesn't have to mean in the GPS. When I was younger we had actual maps. Which we kept..." Sure enough when they checked the glove compartment of the right car they found the next clue. Along with the keys to the car they were in. 

It would be easy, Bruce thought, to just drive straight out of here. To buckle Dick into one of the seats while Jor and Lara were too far away to do anything. He could leave and never look back. He would find a way to deal with Kal. Somehow.  

So easy. 

Too easy. 

He ignored the keys, helping Dick to the library where they had to find one of Bruce's favourite childhood stories.  

The next clue that this was a test came when they were in the grounds. Dick was digging in the rose bushes for the right flower when Bruce noticed the light buzzing he heard this close to the estates edge was gone. Unless Jor had found a way to silence them that meant the security was down.  

One jump or swift climb and they would be out.  

This was a way of seeing if Bruce would make the jump. If he would betray them. Betray Kal and all the trust the man thought he'd built up in Bruce. It was a way to put Bruce back in his cell. 

The other examples, like the paper being hidden just on the other side of the manor's gates and in the secret passageway that led out to the Drake estate, Bruce lamented each escape when it presented itself in his mind. 

But he kept strong, herding Dick in all his excited chatter through the manor and under the gargoyles until they were standing in front of Kal getting their reward which, in all honesty, Bruce would have gladly opted out of. 

They were tickets to see a show, and when Kal handed them over Bruce could see that this too was a test from Jor.  

The blankness in Kal's eyes spoke of innocence, excitement, even as he rallied on the reviews his father had told him about it. He wasn't in on this cruel reward at least, and that Bruce clung onto as Kal helped him fix his tie the following Thursday.  

"You look handsome." 

"Thanks." He didn't feel it. Dressed up in a dark red suit and his hair tamed flat for the first time in years he felt like he was reliving his worst nightmare in technicolour.  

Dick got his legs before he could get to the foyer, climbing up them until he could pout like the sad koala he was on Bruce's height. "I don't see why we have to be dressed up." 

"Because it's expected," Jor said before Bruce could come up with something. The man appeared out of nowhere and pointedly herded them out.  

Bruce couldn't believe this was happening. Actually happening. He was still thinking at some point Jor would grab him and take him down to the cave. Yet the car started and they made it out of the gate without incident. Into the world outside, where freedom was just beyond his reach.  

He watched as Gotham flew past faster than he would have liked. The deli where he stole from a few weeks- a few months more like it now- ago, the bank where he had been kidnapped as a child.

Everywhere had a story and Bruce wanted to take it all in. But they were going somewhere, which meant there was no time for sightseeing. 

There was no time for anything except the daunting thought that after this night Bruce was officially part of the living again. The paparazzi was waiting for them when they stepped out the car. They had probably been camped out for days wanting the scoop of Bruce's first appearance back in Gotham.  

Sure enough, no sooner had his foot stepped outside was he asked a hundred questions about his whereabouts and his plans now he was back. Some of them grew a bit too adventurous for Jor's liking as they tried to cling to each of the El's arms to stop them in their path. It meant, Bruce was inside sooner than he would have liked, and for that he didn't know whether to be thankful or miserable. On the one hand, those were the first people he had seen outside of the El's in months. On the other, they were reporters, and reporters were anything but the most honourable of souls. 

There was another reason he was reluctant to be inside, the theatre itself holding more memories than he would have liked to remember as he walked the halls to his seat. Of course, the numbers were the same, the booth exactly like he remembered.  

Everything down to the last detail was like that night, the last good time he had with his parents.  

He wanted to bolt. To lock himself away in the nearest dark space, hoping it would black out the bombardment of memories of whispers and laughter that he had shared with his parents at this or that part. He wanted to get up and run, or scream for help in the theatre and hope one of the people below would take him away from these monsters.  

He wanted to do a lot of things except sit there and watch. But that was all he could do. To do different would land him back in the cave and back to square one in an instant. Jor was testing him, and Bruce was adamant he wouldn't fail. 

So, he suffered through it all, right down to the end where Jor led them back to the car. He saw the alley as they walked out, his feet wanting to turn towards it, just to see, just to wonder if it still had his mother's pearls littering the concrete. Just to check whether his father's blood still clung to the bricks. 

"Master Bruce." A gentle hand on his arm led him back from the alley and into the warm seats waiting for him. 

The drive back he barely noticed, his mind still stuck in that alley. It was only when Lara handed her coat off to Alfred remarking, "Well that was a wasted evening," that the outside world started to drift back into focus. "You would think terrans would have better theatre these days, what with the technology they possess."  

"Just because it's not Nightwing at Kryptonopolis does not mean it was a wasted night. For the budget, they had and the effort they put in I thought it was excellent. The story itself was riveting, I can see why you chose it father," Kal piped in.  

"Well, I was only thinking of Bruce. It is one of his favourites after all." Jor was begging for a reaction, for Bruce to do something. He felt it rise within him, the hate welling up and sticking in his throat, anchoring him to the floor. 

Until a tiny hand slipped into his own, Dick yawning and putting most of his weight onto Bruce. It was time for bed, for both of them. "Good night," he spared as he picked Dick up, keeping him close so he wouldn't be tempted to go back and ruin everything. Dick wrapped around him easily, only letting go so the both of them could tear off their ridiculous suits.  

Dick had always been better with emotions than him. Where Bruce would struggle, wondering what a frown was for, Dick didn't even have to ask, he knew. Just like he knew now that something wasn't right. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet all night now Bruce thought about it. 

"It was nice," Dick mumbled, "the play. I can see why you would like it." 

"It was nice," Bruce agreed, admitting to himself the memories were painful but the play itself was just as good as he remembered. "My dad took me to see it every time they put it on in Gotham. One time, I dressed up in a cape and mask for it."  

Dick chuckled into his neck." Doofus." He avoided the shove easily, snuggling back up and pushing Zitka in between them. "I'm sorry." For what, Dick didn't have to say, nor did he have to be the one saying it, that was down to Jor.  

Bruce didn't even try to sleep. He knew if he closed his eyes he would be back in that alley, reliving the gunshots as they sounded and watching again and again as it happened. He couldn't do it. As long as he kept awake he could keep the thoughts to the corner of his mind. 

The sun felt like it took an eternity to rise, Dick snuffling in the beginnings of wakefulness just as Kal poked his head through the door. "Time for school." 

Jor was waiting in the kitchen for them, that still expectant look in his eyes. 

 "Good morning," Bruce murmured, taking his seat next to Kal. 

"Morning." 

A plate of French toast appeared in his vision, Kal offering a warm smile to him. His brain clicked into gear, driven more by revenge on that unaffected smile Jor had than anything else. His want for freedom was pushed aside as another purpose took centrefold, one to get back at Jor, somehow for the pain he was putting him through. 

Like a flicked switch he remembered all those lingering looks. Friends could only get Bruce so much. But love, well, love blinded people. If he could win Kal over, play on the feelings he already had then maybe he could get of here and piss Jor off at the same time. Mostly the latter anyway if nothing else.  

Of course, it wasn't easy to implement that idea. For one, every move he made was still being scrutinized. For another, Bruce didn't really know how to act on someone's feelings. The most experience he had with people was when they stopped in Star City. 

Oliver Queen had come to one of their shows, recognizing Bruce instantly since he hadn't really been gone that long. At seventeen, the most that had happened was another growth spurt, maybe his hair getting a bit longer, but nothing that would make him unrecognizable like he was now to his fifteen-year-old self.  

Oliver wasn't so much a friend as an acquaintance. Bruce knew him from galas and play dates at his old life, and while the two of them had never really gotten along, he had accepted that there were worse people to hang around –Kal-  at those events.  

It had been a brief catch up, followed by a night sneaking into clubs. By the morning Bruce wasn't sure whether he really had done half the things he remembered, and wasn't eager to repeat them. 

Other than that, he hadn't really found anyone in the crowd or the places that they stopped that would garner him to act on any of his hormonal urges. Eventually, he put those thoughts to the side, deciding there was more to life than sex and clubs as he accepted another full week of babysitting his favourite little robin.  

Now, he was wishing he had just a little bit more experience, at least enough to figure out what the first step in seducing Kal would be. 

It took a while to figure out what that first step would be, for the time being Bruce just tried to return the lingering looks and hesitant touches. He figured out after a week of doing so that the looks were being misunderstood as wariness, the hesitancy the same. At one point, Kal even came up and asked if it was okay to touch him before doing so. The opposite of what he wanted to happen really. 

Just his luck that this wouldn't go easy.  

Eventually he just went back to his first plan, acts of kindness in disguise. It worked to get things back to normal, but it wasn't what Bruce wanted. Not even close.  

Loathe as he was to do it, he had to resort to the only medium he had in the house to get information about these things. TV. He knew almost everything here was unrealistic, the plots to start with were farfetched and in a real situation would never end happily. But he didn't have access to people outside of the El's. He couldn't just walk out and watch how people went about dating someone. He couldn't even look it up since he had destroyed the phone he was given after one late night miss with Kal. 

Besides, Bruce remembered just as he put another tedious romantic comedy in, the El's had grown up on Terran TV. At least Kal had. While these mediums might seem silly to Bruce, this was almost all their research on how to be a Terran.  

He grew bored of the rom coms after five, his brain hurting over information he didn't know whether was useful or not. By then, it was well into the evening, the El's somewhere in the manor, and Dick... well, Bruce didn’t have to search very far to find him. "Down," he called as he passed the foyer, Dick landing perfectly from the chandelier into Bruce's outstretched arms. "You know, if they catch you they're going to strip you of your privileges." 

"What privileges? Besides, I was bored and you were no fun watching that kissy movie." 

Bruce held off making a retort since it wouldn't get them anywhere, and instead picked dick up and took him to the living room to find something 'fun' to do. Kal found them hours later under the fort they'd made, Dick sound asleep as Bruce finished the final chapter of his book. 

Kal threw something, landing on Bruce's stomach he found a tattered copy of Sherlock Holmes. It was a first edition and in good condition too, the owner having took care of it. The pages were a hardbacked leather, smooth to the touch from rebinding, probably recent too considering the lack of wear on the page's spine. 

He hardly recognised it when he saw it, but when he opened the first few pages he remembered this book, the nights he'd spent reading it again and again, hoping he could be like Sherlock and solve his parents murder with just a few simple deductions. He had spent most of his early teen years trying to hone his skills so he would be like Sherlock. Too bad he had turned out more like the bad guys, he thought, as he processed the fact Kal had kept it all these years.  

There was a difference between keeping something because it had value and keeping something because it was sentimental. There was care in these pages, in the rebinding, in the gift of it back after all these years. If they had merely stored it in the library it wouldn't be in the condition it was now. No chance.  

"Thank you," he remembered to say.  

Kal didn't reply, merely nodded and left Bruce to his reading.  

He didn't find a chance to use the book to his advantage. Really, he had been too busy fending off another one of Jor's tests. This time, the man had decided Bruce would be allowed more privileges outside the house. Namely he was to be in charge of driving Dick to and from school. Just being behind the wheel was exhilarating, tempting beyond belief, and with Dick strapped in at the back Bruce had to curb the thought every time to swerve onto another lane and take the two of them over to the bridge leading out of Gotham. 

But he did, he did it every time and came home with Dick pouting every day because of another incident at school. Kal, naturally, figured it all out when Jor let slip one curse too many the third day Bruce came to the manor without force. The fight that followed was ten times worse than the ones before. Even Lara was no help in stopping the two of them as they raised their voices and let loose their red eyes in a show of temper. 

Bruce took Dick out before the latter could happen, herding the boy upstairs just as red began to tinge in Jor's eyes. He didn't stick around to see Kal's, didn't know if he would be able to considering the last time he'd seen them, both times had been under the worst circumstances Bruce could ever imagine. It kept him civil at least when Kal burst through his door, all excess rage and broad shoulders.  

He deflated as soon as he was through the door, like the floor he stepped on took every inch of anger he had and kept it on hold while he was in here. 

"Is everything alright?" Bruce still tried, remembering he was to have no knowledge about why Kal and Jor had been fighting.  

He expected Kal to say nothing, keep silent or come up with some excuse. Instead, Kal said, "My father still doesn't trust you." He slumped into the chair by the desk without asking, the weight of those words bypassing any hesitance he would have previously shown. "He does not believe you are getting better. He has been using the drive to take Dick to school as a way to show me that, given the chance, you would run."  

Bruce swallowed heavily, forcing his heart to stop beating so loudly in his chest. He couldn't betray himself at all, not even with involuntary reactions- he made a note to find a way to calm his heartrate down in stressful situations. Kal didn't pick up on it if he had heard Bruce's heart, instead sat there and shared a look with him like the very notion was ridiculous to consider.  

Bruce played into it as best he could, forcing a hum out his throat and the most sincere pout on his face. "But you know I wouldn't. Kal, I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to get better. I truly think I have been. Getting stuff in the open... I don't know, there's something nice about being listened to without judgement. Like for the first time I'm actually... normal," he threw in for added emphasis watching Kal go all soft eyed.  

If there was one thing Kal could relate to it was a struggle to be normal. He had battled with it ever since coming to earth, first with Bruce, and then with the outside world when the El's decided it was time to let their little boy build a life of his own. He had always latched onto Bruce when they were kids, when there was something the pair of them didn't understand, such as when they were thirteen and Bruce brought home his first dirty magazine.  

It wasn't even his, if he rightly remembered one of the kids in his class had shoved it in his bag when he wasn't looking because their teacher was forcing him to empty it on account of bad behaviour. He only noticed it when the glossy magazine flipped out onto his bedsheets, a girl posing provocatively on the front staring back at him. Of course, that was the time Kal decided, dog included, to bound into Bruce's room and catch up on the minute details he had missed from the minutes unloading his own bag and coming to Bruce's room.  

They had spent a good hour just staring at the cover, Bruce knowing the purpose of the magazine sure but not really getting the fascination. Kal had picked up on it instantly, the same confused brows and twisted mouth asking why she was bending over like that. No amount of it was meant to be entertaining answered any of their questions, Bruce's own beginning to rise about why he didn't feel lust like the other boys in his class yet. 

The incident had made Kal feel like they were bonded somehow, the boy for years afterwards coming to Bruce after class with stories about another weird magazine he'd seen in someone's bag and "It's a good job it's not because I'm an alien that I don't have any interest," following almost all their encounters. 

 It worked now as it did then, Kal moving until he was seated closer to Bruce on his bed. "Bruce, you know you're normal. Out of the two of us, you're the most normal one here. You're just not well."  

"I know," he grabbed Kal's hand, looking him earnestly in the eye, "and I know with your help I can be well again." He tried his luck turning a little bashful, letting his cheeks redden with embarrassing memories and averting his eyes, the grasp on Kal's hand loosening until it was more like a touch than a clasp. "So, who cares what Jor thinks. It's me you're helping not him, and if he can't see how well you've done then he's not worth listening too." 

 It was a gamble and one that paid off with Kal squeezing back ever so gently. "You really want to get better, don't you?"  

"I do."  

Kal broke contact, retreating back to the desk with his usual question on whether he could stay a while following him back.  

"Of course, you're always welcome in here." Words he knew Kal would take literally. 

Bruce's support of Kal didn't make the fights lessen, if anything they became more frequent, which was saying something since they were common enough to begin with. Instead of once a day when they did happen Bruce walked in to three or four. It got to the point where Lara was actively trying to keep her husband and son apart for most of the day.  

Naturally, she used Bruce as a distraction technique. With Kal, if she wanted him out the way she would send him to Bruce with some pointless errand or another. With Jor, she would do much the same, the man's want to keep as close an eye on Bruce as possible keeping him watching like a hawk for most of the afternoon. Sometimes she would rope Dick into this as well, the need he had being a child making sure that both El's were well and truly occupied and out of each other's way when the other one went past.  

"Is it clear?" 

 "Give me a second," Bruce hissed, peering out from behind his grandfather's portrait. He didn't see anyone, or hear anything. That didn't necessarily mean there was no one there however. "I think we're good." They stepped out into the hallway. The manor was silent, which wasn't necessarily a good thing these days. The last thing Bruce knew for sure was he had just drove Dick back from school when he heard Lara tell one of her two boys to go get him for an errand. Considering the last one had been to find a perfume that didn't exist and had Jor nearly catatonic that Bruce wasn't trying hard enough to find it for his precious wife, he didn't want to stick around and see what todays hopeless distraction would be about. 

Dick had been more than onboard with hiding when Bruce shooed him the secret room, most of the afternoon they had spent their time looking over some extra reading Bruce thought would be best to explore so Dick could catch up. Only now, when Dick's stomach had rumbled for the fourteenth time and Bruce himself could no longer ignore the puppy dog eyes being sent his way, did they chance a trip to the kitchen.  

"What do you think they were fighting about this time?" Dick whispered not so quietly. 

'Me,' Bruce thought, out loud clapping a hand over Dick's mouth he said "Probably Krypto again." 

He felt Dick smile against his hand, "I think it's just you with a problem with him," Dick garbled, licking Bruce's hand for good measure so he could be heard plainly again. "I bet it was something else. Like Kal's job or... you know, other stuff." Other stuff meaning Kal's life as a super hero. "I know I would be angry or worried if someone I knew was out fighting crime. Superman's not invincible you know." 

"I know," Bruce said remembering all the stories and facts he was forced to sit through with Dick. 

Also, all the first-hand knowledge he learnt about them growing up. There was also the fact that Bruce was one of those people who tried to hurt Kal.  

"Whatever the reason I just hope they leave us out of it." 

Dick nodded, the two of them going covert as they neared the foyer. It really seemed the manor was empty. Completely empty, since when they got to the kitchen without being stopped Alfred was nowhere to be seen. 

"It's five," Bruce said, more to himself as he reminded himself of his schedule. Around this time Alfred was usually in the kitchen preparing food, or at least somewhere else in the manor. Yet no food was on the hood, and when Bruce checked the fridge there were only ingredients. Nothing made, nothing waiting.  

Strange.  

Dick knocked something off to his left, sending a sheepish grin Bruce's way. He couldn't worry, not with Dick around. So, he grabbed the nearest thing to him and said, "Looks like you're stuck with my cooking tonight Robin." The moan of anticipation Bruce thought could have been a tad bit more polite. He wasn't that bad a chef after all. Well, he thought he wasn't. "Okay, how about we order something?" 

Dick had the phone ready as soon as the words were out his mouth. 

The prospect of food alleviated the worry that had been at the back of Bruce's mind. Enough that, when the door went and he was whacked in the nose he fell back more from shock than pain.  

He didn't hear Dick scream, which was either a good or a bad thing. He didn't know as he heard two men gearing up for another punch.  

Bruce didn't even think as he ran back into the manor, fighting through the haze of red that splashed his eyes every now and then to find Dick and take him somewhere safe. Bruce hadn't noticed it before, too caught up in his own mind, but somewhere between his parent's death and now, Dick had hardened up. Before, he would have screamed, threw a tantrum or even just stood there and let shock take him over. Now, he didn't even wait for Bruce as he ran ahead through the hallways, leading them to the portrait of Bruce's grandfather and slipping behind. 

They didn't speak as darkness came down around them. Dick huddled up close, the pair of them slowing their breaths as they listened to the fake wall and manor beyond. 

There was nothing. 

Then, "Where the hell did they go? You know, if we don't get them we don't get paid." 

"Relax. Wayne's a spoilt airhead, he doesn't have the brains to find anywhere good to hide. We'll get him in no time." 

Footsteps neared and passed the portrait. "Still can't believe his old man wants him though. What do you think he did to piss him off?" 

"Who knows with these rich guys. For all we know Wayne wants Bruce out the picture so he can properly get his hands on that money." 

Jor. Jor hired them. Bruce felt stupid for even thinking they were here for another purpose. Of course, Jor hired them. This was just another test, another way to prove Bruce was going to turn on them. A strange way to do it, and Bruce couldn't really see the endgame here yet, but he was sure there was some kind of sinister conclusion waiting at the end if he didn't play this right. 

He crouched low until he could get to Dick's ear. "You gotta run." He already had a firm hold on Dick's shoulder, ready to push him out, "They want me, not you, so when I go, you run to your room and yell for Kal." 

Dick didn't question Bruce at all, or even put up a fight, just nodded his head enough Bruce could feel it and tensed in a way to let Bruce know he was ready. 

A swift push, and the two of them were out, racing in different directions. Bruce prayed there were only the two men he'd heard as he caught up with the men invading his house. He made a ruckus, allowed them to catch him if only because he knew Jor wouldn't want him dead. He couldn't have Bruce dead otherwise what would be the point of this home invasion. 

True, if he was killed it could be made to look like an accident, but the men were too open with who hired them. If it were just a hit they would merely have sought out other means of killing Bruce. This was a kidnapping, which meant he was wanted alive, which meant he would be fine if he was caught. 

He hoped.  

… his entire left side hurt the next time he decided to come back into his body. His face, his ribs and strangely his ass were all hurting from where he'd been trussed up. He gave them credit for their work, as much as it hurt, nothing fatal had been dealt.  

He was dealing with professionals then, which meant they were either part of a gang, or had background training in a medical field. Useless information really, he thought as he dozed again. 

The second time he came back to himself he was more comfortable to begin with. He was in his own bed, his clothes loose and familiar and Dick was snug against his side. 

Kal must have came for him then. He shifted, cataloguing how much he was going to have to watch in the coming days. Not much it turned out, the only thing still substantially hurting was his face.  

"Ow." His nose was swollen when he touched it.  

A small hand whacked his own away, Dick sitting up in happy concern as he tried to force Bruce back to the pillows. "Alfred said I was supposed to keep you put." 

"Did he now?" 

Dick nodded, giving Bruce another firm push until he was staring up at the ceiling. "Want to tell me what I missed?" 

Dick did. It turned out he didn't even have to call for Kal to come. He was in the middle of a meeting when he first heard the sounds of trouble. He wanted to come right away, only he couldn't get out of it without being fired, or blowing his cover. Convenient, Bruce thought as Dick went on to tell about just making it to his room before he found himself outside the manor. Extremely convenient that Kal couldn’t get to the manor until just after the goons had enough time to rough Bruce up, or for Bruce to rough them up- he still didn’t know the purpose of this little test.

“Alfred said you have to eat all your food when it’s brought up to you as well. All of it,” Dick huffed when he’d finished, just in time for Bruce to see why that little sentence had been tacked on at the end.

They were treating him like an animal, putting pills in his food so he would swallow it. He did, dutifully, but not without purposefully stabbing out the medicine to show he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. 

Around dusk, the rest of the El’s decided to pay him a visit. They came as a group, Lara taking on the practiced concerned mother as she fussed over Bruce. Well, her hands did, the ice in her eyes showed she, like her husband didn’t fully trust Bruce back into their lives yet. He didn’t even look at Jor when the man came in. He didn’t trust himself not to react to the false worry and intended lies he would spew to his family about this ‘tragic attack’. Kal was probably the only one he was happy to see, which wasn’t something he would have thought- well, ever- in his life.

“I heard you saved my life.”

Kal coloured, “I suppose. I wish I had got here sooner though.”

“You came, that’s all that matters.” Which was true. If he wasn’t so sure Kal would come Bruce didn’t know what his plan would have been. He probably would have figured something out, but it most likely would have been at the cost of his freedom.

“What matters is that you’re alright,” Lara agreed.

He put up with comments like that the rest of the evening. 

Bed rest was annoying. He couldn’t do anything without it being questioned a thousand times over, and he meant anything. He would have thought they would have learnt from when he was a child that he wasn’t some fragile piece of glass if one part of his body wasn’t working. He was still able to do some things for himself. Namely take a piss without someone hovering behind him, waiting for him to collapse. 

Still, there was one good thing to come out of the forced bedrest, and that was more time with Kal. Vulnerability had a way of opening Kal up. He was there with breakfast before he had to go to work, handing Bruce a Daily Planet- another perk- and promising he would do another sweep for the intruders that had hurt him. On an evening, he would stop Dick from crawling over Bruce’s bruised ribs and actually let him sit up and play a few games. Board games mind, but it was still better than staring at the ceiling. The best bit was, when Dick went to bed, Kal would linger, sometimes bringing more books from the library for Bruce to read and, though he could scarcely believe it when it appeared before him, a laptop.

“I thought we could watch a movie.”

A movie. Great. Even greater when Kal was called out on an emergency and left Bruce alone to surf the web. He didn’t look up anything too incriminating. Mostly he just played games or looked his long forgotten email inbox. Kal didn’t berate him for it when he came back, just nudged Bruce back to his own side of the bed and continued playing the movie.

It was nice for more reasons than an alleviation of boredom. Namely because Kal was actually more like that boy Bruce remembered than the one that had been keeping him captive these past few months. Boundaries were lowered to the point where he would sometimes lift Bruce up if he thought an act would cause him too much pain- that one occasion had simply been moving the shower head so he wasn’t being whacked in the eye every time he turned left. Watching a movie, Bruce could lean into Kal’s side and feign tiredness as the reason. He could implant the idea that Bruce didn’t mind physical contact all that much from Kal by not shying away when Kal ‘leant’ over him to grab his water.

It was through those evenings that Bruce managed to achieve what he hadn’t been able to before, a believable change. Even when he was sick as a child Bruce would shy away from any kind of comfort. Kal had been pushed off Bruce’s bed more than once because of a hug or just sitting too long next to him. Now, because of the situation, the gratitude he was supposed to feel and the progress he’d made these past few months his change in behaviour could be believed. It was just what he needed.

After three movie nights and a night where they didn’t watch movies at all to play Pac-man, it wasn’t Kal that came into his room but Jor. His mouth was twisted in that sour expression he always held for Bruce as he closed the door behind him. As far as Bruce knew there was no one else in the manor. The rest of the El’s, along with Alfred and Dick, were out for a few hours trying to find that Chinese place Bruce had always liked when he was younger. Kal had been adamant Bruce deserved it after nothing but soup the past week, which meant he wasn’t coming back, and neither were the others, until Bruce had his food or something that tasted just the same as it.

He knew he should be scared. He should be a lot of things faced with a being that could wipe him out from behind walls. But he wasn’t. He had never been scared of Jor. Of the things he could do, yes. But not him. He was just a man behind those powers after all.

“I want you to stop,” he said, wasting no time in asking Bruce how he was or even trying to be nice.

Bruce conjured the most innocent expression he could, “Stop what?”

He expected Jor to mean his good behaviour in the manor. That was what he wanted after all, for Bruce to crack and be locked away in the cave where he belonged. Instead, Jor said, “With Kal. I want it to stop.”

Bruce had to fight the victorious smile wanting to break out. If Jor had noticed then that meant Kal was either extremely free with his feelings to his parents, or, Kal was more reactive when Bruce wasn’t there to appreciate it. “I don’t know what you mean.”

A hint of red appeared in Jor’s eyes, disappearing before he spoke next, “You know exactly what I mean Bruce. My son- I will not have him squandering his emotions on the likes of you.”

“Because I’m human?”

“No.” Although the twitch at the corner of his mouth belied that. Being human was a part of why Bruce wasn’t good enough. Suddenly, Bruce wondered whether Kal had broken up with his ex simply because of differences in their relationship or because he was still so dependent on his parent’s approval. “Because you’re you. I know you’re up to something and I will not have my son be a part of it.”

“He’s not a part of anything.” He tried to make himself as defenceless as possible, which was quite easy when he was on a sickbed. “I don’t know what kind of scheme you can possibly think I can come up with from here, but I promise you, if Kal is feeling something for me it is not my fault.”

Jor bit his lip, looking torn between what he could and couldn’t say in this situation. Eventually, he just let Bruce off with another, “I want it stopped,” before storming out of Bruce’s room, the door slamming so hard cracks appeared in the wall.

They were noticed when the rest of the manor finally came back. Kal took one look at them, at Bruce with his swollen nose trying to fend off Dick, and sped away faster than Bruce could blink. Lara, naturally, blamed him for the fight that night. She didn’t outright say so, but the look in her eyes before she stormed off after her son said as much.

When Dick was eventually dragged from Bruce’s side and put in his own bed Kal came back for his usual post fight regime. He didn’t bother sitting in the chair by the desk this time, thankfully, and instead grabbed his laptop and put a movie on, huffing the last bit of his anger out just as the opening scene started.

“I can’t believe my father said those things to you.” It was a good way through the first ten minutes. Far longer than what Bruce thought it would take. “He had no right.”

“It’s fine.” He had to play the good prisoner. “He’s just looking out for you. It’s only right he worry.” He hedged a bet, watching Kal’s face as he said, “Besides, it’s not like it’s true.”

Kal’s cheeks coloured, his brows drawing as he grew slightly uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true. What does is that he still doesn’t trust me.”

“You?” That was a revelation. “Why doesn’t he trust you? It’s me that betrayed the family.”

Kal didn’t say anything. Whatever had passed between father and son was enough to keep Kal silent on this front as he stated again, “He had no right.”

Bruce tried a different tactic. “What does it matter? I mean, he said it, it’s done. It’s not like anything would have happened anyway.”

The words had their intended effect as Kal stopped paying attention to the movie at all. “Something would have happened?”

He shuffled in place, casting his eyes down, every practiced show of embarrassment he could remember as he reeled off, “Well- I mean- no. Of course not.”

“Bruce?” He let Kal take his jaw, keeping his gaze away until Kal asked, “Do you like me?”

It was text book. Practically every rom com he’d watched had a moment like this. It was a good thing he’d watched all those horrendous pieces of media, it made sure he was prepared for what he was supposed to say next. “You’re a lot more handsome than you were at sixteen you know.”

He could see the struggle, the rational part of Kal’s brain telling him this was too good to be true. The rest of him however, and Bruce cheered inwardly at this part, was reliving everything he knew about terran behaviour. Every piece he’d learnt about love from TV and every repressed desire he’d had since Bruce had stumbled back into his life. If he had more time to think about it Bruce thought he would have considered what was wrong with this picture. Thankfully, the hormonal side won out.

Kal was gentle with him, cupping his jaw and avoiding his nose as he tilted his head to meet Bruce’s lips. It was soft, barely there, and when they broke apart Bruce could feel the want itching beneath the surface in the sigh Kal let out.

He couldn’t have him backing out of this, so Bruce tangled his hands in Kal’s hair, pushed the laptop from the middle of them and straddled Kal’s lap as best he could with a bruised rib. “Your father’s going to kill me,” Bruce muttered, the words said just because they had to be. He wasn’t moving, Kal knew that, Bruce knew that.

Sure enough, “He’ll get over it,” preceded their next kiss.

Bruce doubted that he would.


	7. Chapter 7

He'd woke beside Kal the morning after their night together sore but sated. There was something nice about wondering how Jor was going to react to this new development. He'd been pissed before just warning Bruce about potentially touching his son. Now Bruce had done it, more, now Kal had been the one to defend and instigate the first point of contact, he was more than ready to see that tortured mind on display.

Kal was overly cheery when he woke, and why wouldn't he have been. He'd been wanting this for a while, longer than what Bruce had already figured out he was willing to bet, which was why he let Kal have his way. Morning breath be damned Kal was thorough as he dragged Bruce back onto his pillow.

"We should go to breakfast." To see Jor before he went for his business trip. Bruce wondered what was going on in his mind right now. He would have heard something, he always had an ear on Bruce's room. No doubt he had spent the night with Lara holding him back from dragging Kal halfway across the world from Bruce. To think, that by this afternoon he wouldn't be able to persuade his son to keep away from Bruce. That they would have two uninterrupted weeks to whatever they pleased, for Bruce to defile his precious kryptonian son again and again… It must be torture.

He dragged Kal back when it looked like he wasn't going to fight Bruce on the breakfast issue. Wrapping his legs around those strong hips he made his intentions about joining the rest of the manor clear. Kal was more than happy to fold back into the sheets, agreeing that the rest of the family could do without them for a while longer.

When they finally did go down he could tell just from looking at Jor that the man did indeed know what had transpired between Kal and Bruce. He could read it in the lines on his face, the tight line of his shoulders, the broken mug dripping hot coffee all over his slacks.

Kal mistook Bruce's rapid heartbeat for fear, pushing himself in front to tell his father they were going to take their food in Bruce's room. He let Kal think him afraid, it was better than glee after all, and gladly retreated to his room for a private breakfast.

Of course, he should have known that his morning wouldn't go completely to plan. Jor's reaction was better than Bruce could have hoped for, the best part being that there was nothing Jor could do right now if he didn't want to lose Kal forever. With being so preoccupied on Jor, and his feelings, Bruce had completely forgotten about the other occupants of the manor. One in particular who was perched happily on Bruce's bed when he walked in, right in the wet patch.

"Dick." He spared a silent curse, scurrying over to subtly push Dick out of the way. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast."

"You're not."

"Yes, but you should be. You have school." Any chance to shift Dick had him climbing even further closer until he was practically sitting on Bruce's lap.

"If you're not down at breakfast then neither am I. That's how it goes."

Or that was how it should have went. Bruce was about to give in and let Dick stay when Kal came through the door with breakfast. There wasn't anything fancy, just some cereal and toast, but something had Dick tearing out of Bruce's room and down to breakfast before Kal had taken three steps in.

Bruce didn't know what had gotten into him, and no amount of reassurance from Kal that morning made him feel any better. There was something up. Bruce could feel it, and he knew it even more after breakfast.

Dick came back up, lingering outside Bruce's door. He usually came straight in, having no concept of boundaries to speak of. However, it took ten minutes and Kal leaving before he even poked his head through the doorframe. Even then it was only to ask, near beg Bruce, for ten minutes straight if he could take him to school instead of someone else in the manor. Since he still physically couldn't, Bruce had to say no. He expected Dick to barter for Kal next, even made the suggestion, but just the mention of Kal had Dick putting up a fuss. He wasn't happy unless it was Bruce, on his own, taking Dick to school.

Eventually, Kal just took him anyway. He nabbed him when Dick was least expecting it, super speeding him away with a gust of a kiss for Bruce.

He mulled over the problem of Dick the rest of the morning, trying to pin point what was wrong. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Alfred came by with his drugs at the scheduled time, and apart from the El's zooming past as they packed, Bruce was pretty much left to his own devices.

At least, until the customary pre- trip speech.

He'd heard Lara and Jor as they walked past, their Kryptonian at a normal speed even if they weren't. When Jor told him the usual warnings not to hurt Kal while he was gone Bruce believed the threat of containment was real this time. Jor had wanted to lock him up, had been making his way to lock him up, when Lara reminded him again that if he did so Kal would never forgive him. That seemed to be the threat of the day, Bruce hearing it repeated more than once as they gathered clothes and snacks for the road.

They were gone by noon, Bruce left in the manor by himself after that. Even Alfred went with them, since they needed someone to drive the car.

Usually, when Bruce was left alone, he welcomed it. It meant he was free to do things without someone breathing down his neck. He could go to the gym, sneak some of Alfred's cookies or even take a shower. However, with the injuries he still had, and the soreness he was working off from last night, Bruce found himself wanting nothing more than a nice nap in the library.

It was a door slamming and fighting he'd certainly never heard in the manor before that woke him. Kal's voice was easy to pick out, he'd heard it enough these days to be able to pick it out of a crowd at this point. Dick's on the other hand, well, Bruce hadn't heard him this mad since his arm.

He scurried over to where the worst of the shouting came from, finding Dick yanking his tie off in the middle of his screeching. Kal had stopped yelling, Bruce getting the feeling that he'd only raised his voice in the first place so he could be heard- Dick was loud when he was worked up.

Right now, it was mostly nonsense. He was angry at school, at the kids calling him names, at the manor, at everyone inside it. Everything. He stormed off after one last stomp, brushing past Bruce like he was the enemy.

"What was that about?" He asked Kal. He wanted to know what he was getting into before he went after Dick.

Kal looked just as lost as Bruce felt, the man shrugging. "He just snapped at me when I picked him up. I think he's having a hard time at school."

Well, Bruce knew that. It wasn't easy being the adopted kid of the weirdest family in Gotham. Then there was the academic issue. Bruce knew Dick still hadn't caught up completely. Right now, if he was in Dick's shoes he would be hating school as well. But this felt like more than that. Dick had already complained about school, he'd moaned and cried to Bruce about the unfairness of it. This was more than that. Something must have happened, and if it had, it hadn't happened at school. Bruce would have heart about it last night if it had.

He found dick buried in his pillows. He didn't even look at Bruce as he reached around and threw Zitka at him. Bruce caught the elephant, setting it by Dick's head and chancing sitting near the two of them.

They were quiet. Dick didn't want to talk, but Bruce was used to waiting him out and could play the silent game all day if he wanted to. He had nowhere else to be, and his bruises meant this comfy bed was actually heaven on his skin.

It took an hour, but eventually Dick crawled his way to Bruce's lap, snuggling up like a pissed off cat. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Kal. I saw him in your bed last night."

"Oh." Bruce felt his insides freeze. He was sure the door had been locked. He'd made sure Kal checked before he took his shirt off. Then again, that had never mattered in the circus. He remembered teaching Dick himself how to pick locks. It had been a way of passing time between performances. Bruce hoped Dick hadn't seen anything he wasn't supposed to- well anything crude anyway. "Why were you in my room?"

"Bad dream," Dick said, like that was Bruce's fault too.

"You could have woke me." He hoped to God he had been asleep.

Dick shook his head. "Kal would've woken up."

"You have something against him?" Bruce thought he'd liked Kal. The past few weeks he hadn't minded Kal playing with them. He'd been his best friend when he'd saved Bruce from those brutes.

Dick huffed as in argument against that, pushing himself off Bruce's lap so he could see him properly. His face was red, his eyes still wet from crying, he was the picture of unhappy. "You like him."

"So do you."

"You kissed him," Dick hissed, his eyes flying wild like Kal would come in at any moment.

Bruce didn't really care. Kal could come in with the Joker on his back and he still wouldn't care because Dick had definitely seen something he shouldn't. Bruce was trying to think. Dick didn't want to wake him but he'd seen Bruce kiss Kal. Either he'd came in twice last night, or he was lying about waking Kal up.

Deciding he would cross the hurdle of kissing when it came, he focused on the reason Dick was upset and waited him out again. Sure enough. "You kissed him Bruce. You like him." Bruce accepted the hit when it came, Dick's fists gentle despite the anger behind his action. "You like him Bruce!"

"So?"

"So now we're never going home," He sobbed, flopping back onto the sheets. Bruce gave Dick credit, he was probably one of the most dramatic kids he'd ever met.

"You think because I like Kal we're never going home?" It was a good reason to be upset, he could see where Dick was coming from. In his mind, if Bruce grew more attached to Kal then he would be swayed more to stay. To him, Bruce was his only way out, just like Kal was to Bruce, and if Bruce stayed Dick couldn't very well leave on his own. Bruce was all he had left. He wanetd to tell Dick that wasn't the case, that he was still working on getting them out of here. But, at the same time, he couldn't. Kal was probably listening in, and Jor most definitely was. Also, if Bruce denied there was anything going on between them he was probably going to mess up whatever fragile thing was going on between Kal and him. He wasn't about to let last night be for nothing, so he said, "It was just a kiss."

"No, it wasn't," Dick whined.

"Okay, you have to tell me how much you saw." He didn't know what he was working with here.

Dick jolted up again, "Does it matter? You kissed him, you kissed him Bruce. You like him."

"Yes, I kissed him," He admitted. He couldn't say anything more, couldn't explain this was all for Dick. Not out loud anyway. He made Dick look at him, hoped Dick could read it on his face he was telling the truth when he said, "But you mean more. You will always come first with me Dick." When Bruce finally made a break for it, he was bringing Dick with him, not Kal.

Dick sniffed a bit, his face still blotchy, but he wiped his eyes and when he flopped down again it was more for a hug than to weigh Bruce down with his body.

Things seemed alright, so Bruce chanced asking what was going on in school, saddened to hear it was more of the same old struggles. Sometimes, Bruce didn't know who had it worse, him or Dick. On the one hand Bruce was stuck here, a prisoner. But he'd done this to himself, he deserved this. Dick, well, he didn't deserve the ridicule he got at school. He definitely didn't deserve the warzone he'd been coming home to every day.

"Hang in there," was the only advice he could give.

Since Alfred was gone, it was down to Kal to make dinner. He came for them, Bruce was sad to see, on the scheduled time, Dick brushing past him despite the talk he'd had with Bruce.

Kal didn't look too disheartened, lingering behind to help Bruce the invalid down the stairs.

"What?" Bruce asked, catching Kal looking at him weirdly as they got to the lower halls.

"You're good with him," Kal offered up.

Great, he'd won parenting points. With the nature of their relationship now Bruce didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "I should be, I've known him before he was born."

Dinner was a mix between awkward and pleasant. Pleasant, because Jor wasn't there. Awkward because Dick was still icy. Honestly it was like being in the middle of a divorce, Bruce the one being fought for custody over. Kal was good enough not to cause too much drama, instead opting only to speak when he wanted the salt or lemonade passed to him.

Of course, things couldn't be as easy as Bruce wanted them to be. Despite having their talk, Dick was still hostile towards Kal. He put up a fuss on a night, refusing to let Kal in his room. Only Bruce was allowed to help him with his homework, and when it came to taking him to and from school a compromise in the way of Bruce having to be in the car every time had to be agreed upon when one morning they couldn't find Dick at all.

On the fifth day, where Bruce should have been enjoying the time away from Jor and instead was spending it calming down a pissed Dick, he'd had enough.

He trapped Dick in his room, making sure Kal was otherwise occupied in making dinner. Dick took to the intrusion with good humour at first, grabbing Bruce and telling him to, "Come see my History report. I got a B Bruce, a B!"

He let himself be towed, let himself be the proud big brother he loved to be and read through every bit of progress Dick thrust his way. At least until it grew closer to five. Kal would be done with dinner soon, expecting them to be down.

Dick caught him looking at his watch. "I'm not going down," he warned.

"Yes you are," Bruce countered. If Dick wanted to play the stubborn card they both knew who would win in the end. "Dick, look, it's Kal. He's not a bad person." Really, out of the two of them Bruce was the bad guy here.

Dick huffed, pulling away to toss his things to the side. No more showing off then. "He's one of them though."

"Yes, he is, and you never had a problem with him before. And you won't now," Bruce insisted.

"But-"

"Dick." This was going to be a problem, he could tell from the stubborn set of his jaw. Dick, if he didn't like someone could be a nightmare. It had happened more than once at the circus. Living in a tight nit community, they didn't have time for people who would backstab or cause trouble. When one of the strong hands stole from the circus earnings the whole place turned against him. Dick used to let him teach him slight of hand once upon a time, after that however, he made the guy's life a living hell. No talking, things going missing, getting the guy into more trouble than he was already in. If Dick didn't want anything to do with Kal, he wouldn't have anything to do with him.

Bruce couldn't have that. He needed everyone to be getting along with Kal. Dick especially. If he was going to be using Kal to get out he didn't need to be worrying about Dick. He didn't need to be worrying about whether Kal was going to see Dick's hostility towards them together as a reason to be apart. Jor, he knew Kal was ignoring. But Dick, well, Kal was always more sensitive to humans than his own parents.

Loathe as Bruce was to admit it there was only one course of action he could see working. Darting over to Dick's discarded stuff, he dug out a notebook and told Dick to "Come here."

Dick did, if only so he could start cursing Kal's existence up close. Bruce slid the notebook over as soon as he was done. He couldn't outwardly tell Dick to read it, Kal was probably listening, and in these circumstances telling Dick to read something would only cause suspicion.

Eventually he had to turn Dick's face down himself. He watched the rage go as soon as he saw the words written there. **Kal's helping us get out.**

Dick's brows drew, "How-"

Bruce clamped a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. He stole the book back, writing, **We don't know who's listening in. Jor's still on watch even when he's not here.**

Dick nodded, stealing the book to write his own message, **How?** Was all he wanted to know.

Bruce didn't really know yet. He couldn't lie to Dick either, so he shrugged, thinking on his feet. **Kal hasn't told me his plan yet. But you have to be civil to him. He's the only chance we have to get out.** "Please, please be nice to him," Bruce asked.

Dick looked once more at the notes, reading the sincerity of the words on Bruce's face. "Okay."

The rest of Jor's business trip went more smoothly. Dick had done a complete turnaround from Kal's enemy to best friend in a matter of seconds. As soon as he got out of his room he was in the kitchen asking Kal if he wanted help making dinner.

Bruce could tell Kal appreciated having his friend back. He was at ease in the manor, no longer wary of just where Dick might pop up. He liked not having a fight every morning about who was to take Dick to school, and enjoyed being able to participate in games Dick thought up.

"You're incredible," Kal gushed, having just set Dick down for the night. He looked like he'd used his speed again to make the short trip from there to Bruce's room. "I don't know what you said to him but whatever it was he's definitely back to normal."

"It was just school stuff," Bruce excused, not liking the thankful gleam in Kal's eye. "It got overwhelming, he lashed out at another new change. Kids stuff."

"Or," Kal countered, crowding Bruce on his pillow. "It was you. You can be allowed to take credit for stuff you know."

"If I had something to take credit for."

Kal was appreciative regardless, leaning in for a kiss Bruce knew would turn to something else if he let it. Which he did.

He knew Jor was waiting for Bruce to strike still. Waiting for him to turn on Kal. He knew when Jor was away his paranoia was at an all time high because he'd caught the man sneaking back a few trips ago to check on him one night. Just seeing that face looming in his window had him scared enough to go running to Kal. With the way things had changed he was sure a check up would be coming any time now. Well, he hoped Jor liked seeing his son in the throes of passion since that was all Bruce had planned for the next two weeks.

"Ah! Right there!" He'd made sure Dick was in bed. Made sure. He'd turned the locks too. Even barricaded the door with his desk just in case. There was no way he was getting in. "Kal…" He'd also made sure Dick was a good hallway down so he wouldn't hear him. The last thing Bruce needed was Dick coming in through the window because he thought Kal was hurting him. Dick might have seen something he shouldn't have, but that wasn't to say he completely understood what it was. "Ow!" Especially if Kal was hurting him on occasion.

All points of contact stopped, Kal on the other side of the bed as he tried to pin point the place he'd hurt Bruce. "I am so sorry." He found it, the bruise blossoming on Bruce's pelvis where Kal had bore down just that little bit too hard.

Nothing was broken, thankfully, Bruce would know if there was. Kal still looked like there was as he darted off to get ice. Really, the only thing that was wrong with Bruce was the humiliation. It was bad enough he had to lie naked when Kal was fucking him, the man being sentimental enough to not even comprehend what a quickie was. Now, with every single one of his bruises on show, and a new one blossoming, without there being anything going on, Bruce was a little bit peeved.

He didn't let it show, accepting the ice when it was given to him and cuddling up to Kal. It was like sitting on a rock, Kal barely moving, stuck in his own mind. His skin was soft, but the muscle underneath firm like a steel table as Bruce settled himself comfortably in Kal's lap.

"Hey," Bruce called, winding his hands in Kal's hair. "You okay?"

"Me?"

A pointed finger brushing over his bruise showed Bruce just who should have been concerned about being hurt. He paid no attention anyway, he couldn't have Kal pulling away after all. "Yes, you. I'm fine Kal. It's not like you meant it."

"No," Kal agreed, but the frown on his face wasn't lessening despite the reassurance Bruce gave him.

It took a while, and Bruce accepting he wasn't going to be put on his back again that night before Kal told him what was wrong.

"I'm sorry for hurting you. It's never happened before."

"Everyone's allowed to make mistakes Kal. Your parents have. The important thing is that you didn't really do anything. I know you can control yourself." Or he hoped to God he could. That was all Bruce needed, fearing for his own safety in here as well.

Kal ran his hand over Bruce's arm, as if proving to himself that he could do it without hurting anyone. "I just don't understand. This never happened with Lois."

Lois. Finally a name he could put to this mysterious ex. He filed that information away for later. "Well, I'm not Lois. Maybe you were more… passionate with me because I know you. Really know you. You don't have a connection like ours and not lose yourself in it sometimes." He took the wandering hand in his own, happy to note Kal squeezed back.

"I guess." Kal turned to him, his usual smile back on his face as he gently kissed him. "Sometimes I can't believe you're mine. Feels a bit surreal."

They had enough time to put the matter to bed. By the time Jor came back from his trip Kal was on cloud nine again.

The love between father and son hadn't lessened in the time apart, regardless of how Kal spent the two weeks in-between. A warm hug was spared for him, Jor telling him Lara had a present waiting in the car as he turned his attention to the other two in the manor. Dick got an appraisal, Jor telling him he looked well despite the malnutrition he'd obviously suffered while he was away. Dick took to that compliment well. Strangely well. It seemed being told they were getting out of here had made him more amendable to playing nice with Jor. That made one of them.

When Jor turned to Bruce, pulling him close, Bruce actually feared for his life. He thought for sure he was going to walk away with a broken collarbone, the worst would be a snapped neck. But no, none of that happened. Instead, Bruce found himself on the other end of a hug. He knew it was for Kal's benefit, saw the way he lit up as he walked with his mother in tow back into the manor.

Bruce didn't know what to do with his hands, they hung limply by his sides. For a hug, there was no malice behind it. In fact, there was almost a hint of glee. Bruce didn't know why until Jor pulled away, his side bumping pointedly into the bruise Kal had left a few nights ago.

"You might want to look for some kind of shielding," Jor said, before walking off back to his family.

Right. Jor wasn't happy to see him. He wasn't even happy to be back so he could keep an eye on his son. What he was happy about was the idea that Bruce's plans were backfiring. The idea of Kal bedding him had turned from one of horror to one of pleasure. Jor couldn't hurt him, but Kal, indirectly, well, all it would take would be one night of real mindless sex and Bruce could be looking at some serious damage.

Sadist.

Lucky for Bruce he had thought up a solution to Kal's strong hands.

He made sure Dick was in bed, barricaded the door again and even locked the windows. He'd been waiting all evening, ever since Jor had hugged him, for this. Just the idea that Jor was back had his blood boiling, the pointed comment irking at him until he was dragging Kal into his room.

"You're in a good mood," Kal noted, not complaining as he undressed faster than the speed of light.

"Just excited," Bruce waved off, tossing his underwear to the corner. No sooner had they landed Bruce pounced, pushing Kal onto the bed. "I want to try something," stopped Kal from flipping them over. If there was anything Kal was eager for it was Bruce taking charge. He'd noticed Kal figuring out how it was always him initiating things. How he never finished with Kal in the room, and hated all forms of foreplay possible. He could see Kal's brain working through things, wondering if this was just a tic that made Bruce himself, or whether there was something more behind it. Hopefully, tonight would stop that line of thought. He'd been lucky these past two weeks that the prospect of sex had stopped Kal pushing anymore psychological tests on him, the last thing he needed was for Kal to add hang ups in the bedroom onto the list of things that made up Bruce's psyche.

Hands dutifully by his side, Kal let Bruce take charge, at least somewhat. Bruce slapped away any hands that wanted to roam or touch, relenting only when Kal pointed out his fingers were in a better position, not to mention wider, when Bruce tried to spread himself open.

He watched Kal figure out what that something new was the more Bruce bounced on his searching fingers. The appreciative groan told Bruce Kal was on board, one of his hands already going to Bruce's hips. He batted Kal off again, sliding off his fingers to find his cock.

The worst thing about this position wasn't really the wandering hands. Those he could handle. No, the worst thing was that Bruce usually turned off during this part and let Kal do what he liked. Usually, Kal was buried in his neck, or Bruce facing the other way, the perfect position to shut off and Kal be none the wiser. Like this however, with Kal watching him like a guy with front row tickets to a show, there was no way Bruce could turn off his mind and wile away however long Kal was going to take.

The thing was, it turned out tonight Bruce didn't really want to turn off. As soon as he got used to the feel of Kal inside him he started moving, searching for that one part inside him that Kal had only brushed at a few times before. He found it fairly quickly, angling himself get it every time until he was leaking. He could see now why Kal was eager to jump into bed every time Bruce let him. It was heady, this feeling of pleasure, almost too much.

"Kal," he whined, letting out all the noises he could, knowing somewhere in the manor Jor was fuming.

Hips slammed up to meet his own, Bruce shoving his hands against Kal's stomach until it was against the bed again.

"Stay," Bruce hissed, keeping his hands there firmly to show Kal he wasn't messing around about this.

His thighs were straining after a while, Bruce not used to this kind of physical exertion- at least not on his part- these days. Thankfully, Kal didn't last nearly as long as he usually did, his hands tearing part of Bruce's bedsheet as he ground out the beginnings of his orgasm.

Bruce, for once, didn't lift off and clean up. Taking himself in hand, he brushed against that spot inside him again, grinding on Kal's softening cock until he spilled over that kryptonian chest. It looked like a mark of ownership, Bruce's cum staining that perfect skin.

He pulled off, collapsing sideways to get his breath back. Kal was gone and back in a blink, gathering Bruce to deposit him the right way up in bed. "That was good," Bruce panted.

"I don't think good is the word I would use here," Kal said, his breath already back and as poised as he usually was. Bruce almost envied him. Almost. The look Kal was giving him, marvelling at all the human attributes that left him breathless and sweaty. He knew he wasn't exactly pretty in that moment, but Kal seemed to think he was, murmuring kryptonian praises into Bruce's skin.

He expected Jor to condemn him as soon as he walked through the door for breakfast the next morning. For him to be sitting there, eyes blazing red, ready to drag Bruce down to the cave. Instead, Bruce got none of that. A pleasant smile on his face, a plate of pancakes for both Bruce and Kal, Jor bade them a good morning before turning to help Dick with his tie.

Bruce was a little scared.

Kal, this time, didn't take Bruce back to their room. Despite his rapid heartbeat for the right reason this time, Kal took his seat and motioned for Bruce to do the same.

"You're in a good mood this morning father," Kal noted after his perfunctory good morning.

Jor beamed back at him. "Well, after my time away I've had time to think. You were right Kal, about a lot of things. I haven't been giving Bruce a fair chance, and that's all going to change. From now on, it's a fresh start. For all of us."

What the hell had happened on this business trip?

Bruce glanced at Kal, seeing if he believed the crap coming out of his father's mouth. Only, when he looked, Kal was- Bruce could only say- overjoyed. "I'm happy to hear so father," he said, squeezing Bruce's hand gently under the table.

Talk after that consisted of Jor's business trip, the investors that were interested in the new developments W.E. were making, and how Lara, after almost twenty years out of work, was finally joining her husband at the forefront of all these changes.

"Mother this is amazing." He tried to see if he could use it for an article, the El's agreeing since they trusted Kal not to say anything too suspicious in his newspaper. It was an interesting thing, Kal working for the papers, but the more Bruce thought about it the more it made sense. If there was one thing that was always speculating it was the press, with Kal working there, he would be able to control what was being spread around, what truths were making the front page.

With so many good things happening that morning Bruce almost had a pleasant breakfast. Almost. The whole thing with Jor was still freaking him out. He was expecting any minute for the man to go against his word. But, the whole day nothing happened. Well, not nothing, something happened, and that was Bruce getting the whole brunt of Jor's turnaround.

He expected to be left alone, like usual, the unwelcome guest no one wanted to be around. However, no sooner had Dick left for school and Kal for work did Jor come into Bruce's room, three books in tow and told him to meet him in the library at noon.

Jor was taking over Kal's role as psychiatrist. Kal had willingly handed over all the notes he had about Bruce, all the speculations and tests he'd done. Jor had already flipped through them twice by the time Bruce skulked over to the chair opposite him.

"You need to take this more seriously if we're to have any progress Bruce." The whole time Bruce was there it was clinical, professional. There was no malice behind anything, no hidden agenda. It was honestly like Jor was trying to help. By the end of the session, he left Bruce with a few tasks to complete, a few goals to set himself before he was back to being regular Jor, telling Bruce that Alfred had sandwiches ready in the kitchen when he was ready.

Jor was the one to bring Bruce his drugs, to check him over and tell him he was making an excellent recovery. He was the one who told him they would be going out at the weekend with Dick to pick out some new clothes for him. He even, in the evening when Kal was home and Bruce wanted nothing more than to hide away in his room, let Bruce look over some of his new projects.

Day two was much of the same, thankfully Jor had work so Bruce wouldn't have to worry about more than a breakfast with the man. Still, just breakfast had Bruce wondering if he'd magically been transported into another realm. Especially when Jor said to Kal, "Perhaps the two of you could also keep the noise to a minimum on an evening son. While your mother and I are pleased for you, that doesn't mean we want to listen in."

A message Kal took to heart as day four had him covering Bruce's mouth when he so much as murmured a bit too loud.

Bruce knew he should have been more concerned about this recent development than he was. However, the way he looked at it, whatever Jor was planning Bruce could either spend his time worrying about it and make things worse, or just enjoy the peace he had right now and work on his own plans to get out of here.

With his injuries healing he was put on some of his old duties again. He was allowed to drive Dick to school, which the boy found to be the best thing to happen this year. He was also put back on errand duty for Lara who now had no time herself to get the groceries or pick up dry cleaning she used to do to help Alfred out.

Better, with Kal on cloud nine right now Bruce got perks he never would have dreamed of a few months ago. Picnics on the top of Wayne Enterprises, to start with, were one such perk. Kal flew the two of them up there one night, his basket full of donuts and cookies, perfect midnight snack food. The view was spectacular, Bruce remembering the last time he had been up so high shortly before his imprisonment.

After the picnic came a trip to Metropolis. An actual trip too, not just a quick flyby. Dick was held hostage at the manor the whole time, but, Bruce was ashamed to admit, the moment he saw the sun shining off the top of the Daily Planet, he forgot all about him.

The trip was short, mostly just Kal showing off his life before Bruce came back into it. His apartment was small compared to what he could have afforded. There was little in it, Kal telling Bruce he'd moved most of his things back to the manor. The only reason he hadn't sold his apartment here had been because he still needed a good cover story for the Planet.

When Bruce finally got around to going there, it was a whole other world. People were everywhere, Bruce wanting more than anything to pull one of them aside and tell them to help him. He held his tongue because Dick wasn't there, but it was a near thing.

Besides, if Bruce had begged for help there, he never would have met Kal's ex.

Lois Lane took one look at Kal when he came in and promptly slapped him full in the face. Bruce liked her already. Especially when she went on a rant about how Kal was supposed to be at the mayor's office with her ten minutes ago and was now being cut out of the bi-line. "I mean, I know you have… other duties, but that is no excuse not to do your job. Now, if you're done, Perry wants to see you."

"But I have the day off," Kal mumbled even as she sent him on his way with a shove

She turned to Bruce when she was done, a switch being flipped as the grumpy girl left and a welcome smile was in its place. "Lois Lane, nice to finally meet you."

"You too."

Lois was a force to be reckoned with. When she realised she wasn't getting a front page story from Bruce about where he'd been or what he'd been up to these past few months, she started in on the juicy stuff. Kal.

"So you broke up because of your job?"

"Sort of," Lois said. She'd been explaining it before, but Lois went a mile a minute and Bruce was still trying to catch up. "I wanted to do a more in depth article about Superman's origins and, well, daddy supes didn't like that all too much. Neither did Kal, but he had the grace to actually put me down gently. I told him that if I didn't do this then someone else was going to come along, dig up more dirt on Superman and sooner or later he would be wishing he'd agreed to my interview in the first place. Things kind of went downhill after that."

"It seems a shame to break up because of that." It really did. For all intents and purposes Lois was a great woman, one who was quite overpowering. Compared to Kal, she was the brazenness he was missing. They complimented each other nicely.

Lois didn't seem to think so as she barked out a laugh. "Oh, believe me that was just the tip of the iceberg. We had our problems from the start what with the secret identities and fights all couples have. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Thankfully, it happened in time for us to still be friends." She clapped her hands, "So, enough about me and my drama, Kal tells me you and he are taking family bonds to a whole new level."

"We're not-" related he wanted to say, but Lois already knew that judging from her smirk. He'd just answered her question anyway.

"Have to admit, I do miss those Kal Wayne hands. They're like magic."

He tried to keep his face neutral, he'd heard Kal being called Kal Wayne most of his life after all. But there was just something wrong about it. To Bruce, he'd always be an El. "They're definitely something," He choked out.

Kal came back not long through Lois trying to get Bruce to spill more details that would have ended up in the gossip column if it were someone else. He'd managed to clear it with Perry that he did indeed have the day off, despite what Lois said, and took Bruce on the rest of his tour.

The whole time they were there Bruce felt like he was normal. Like he was just another guy in the middle of the city. It was extremely satisfying, but still not enough. He needed Dick with him. Also he was stuck with Kal. He wasn't bad company, it was just not Bruce had pictured when he finally saw Metropolis again.

Bruce didn't sleep the night he was there. He cosied himself up when Kal was asleep in front of his apartment's window. It was open, freedom calling to him. He could hear people below, people who would help him. He could see other buildings opposite him, and no stars in sight. He was away from the manor and it was beautiful.

The other treats he got were small. A new set of gym clothes that he knew Dick would have told Kal about. They were shaped exactly like one of his old circus costumes, Dick showing off a similar one when he ran into the gym that evening. Things like that to show Bruce that his kindness was getting him somewhere.

"Maybe next time we go to Metropolis we can take Dick," Bruce suggested one evening.

Kal stopped his krytonian mutters, humming into Bruce's neck instead. "I guess."

He tried to sell the idea some more. "The last time we were in Metropolis, we went to the zoo. They have these lemurs there that you can pet. Dick made me wait all day just so he could hold one. You should've seen his face when he did." If Dick came to Metropolis with him he would be able to slip away, to call for help. He knew one man in Metropolis that would be willing to harbour them against the El's. Or against Superman.

Kal smiled, Bruce feeling it as a gentle kiss was pressed to his skin. "In that case, of course we can take Dick."

The when of that happening was unknown. Bruce could be waiting a week, or even another three months before Kal decided it was time to whisk Bruce away on another Metropolis trip. Regardless, the promise had been made, and with the ease he found at the manor these days Bruce had high hopes that, for once, things might just end up going his way.

He mentioned Metropolis a few more times, laying on thick the stories of what he and Dick got up to when they visited. Kal loved every single story, Bruce seeing he was winning big guardian points again every time he finished.

It was a Friday when it happened. When Bruce thought everything would finally align for him. He'd just finished his, still creepy, session with Jor, the man giving him some reading he was definitely not going to do when Kal came through the door with big news.

He took his parents aside first, telling them in private what was going on. Or, as it looked to Bruce, asking for their permission. He must have got it, since afterwards Bruce found himself sat at the dinner table being told the best news he'd heard in a while.

"Space?"

Kal nodded. "It happens sometimes. The JLA helps out with intergalactic treaties from time to time, and it always helps when it's not just terrans trying to tell them what to do."

"When do you leave?"

Tomorrow afternoon, and that wasn't the best part. "I want you to meet them. My team mates. Or, some of them anyway. Dick can come too, I know you wanted to meet Wonder Woman."

Dick was practically vibrating in his seat with excitement.

"Can I bring my magazine?" he asked later, refusing to let them leave his room until he knew every little detail of their trip tomorrow.

"Of course you can."

"And my cape. Can I bring my cape? Will she sign it?"

"You'll have to ask her yourself," Kal said, his face so happy it was hard to look at. Not that Bruce could blame him, truthfully, Bruce was just as excited as both of them for tomorrow. He was meeting superhero's. More, he was meeting people with the power to keep him away from the El's. He couldn't wait.

When they finally escaped from Dick's never ending questions, Bruce showed his gratitude as best he could. When they were done, Kal chuckling gleefully at the ceiling, Bruce honestly didn't know how he was going to get through the night. He was wired up, so happy. It was happening. Tomorrow he was going to get away.

"So, I never asked, how was your day?" Kal asked, put together as usual and on his side so he could best watch Bruce come down.

"Okay," Bruce breathed, clearing his throat so he didn't sound too wrecked. "Your father gave me some reading to do."

"Oh?"

Bruce pointed to the books on his desk, the thick tomes that were supposed to help him somehow. "I don't know what he hopes to achieve. One of them is even mine."

"Really?" Kal sounded amused, picking himself up to look over the books themselves. The book that was Bruce's was Kal's gift to him, the old copy of Sherlock Holmes he'd loved as a child. "Maybe he hoped you'll get a knack for solving mysteries and help him find his tools when he loses them."

"Or, maybe he decided that stealing what wasn't his was wrong and decided to give it back as subtly as he could." Bruce had spent a good few weeks at the beginning of his incarceration as an invalid looking for that book. He'd been wanting to read it, to remember the times his father would sit with him when he had time. Or the times afterwards where Alfred would try to comfort him with something familiar.

"Maybe," Kal agreed, grinning as he flipped open the first page, and promptly fell to the ground, a familiar green rock following.


	8. Chapter 8

It fell, that glowing green rock mocking him all the while, like one bad joke. They hit the ground together, Kal and the kryptonite- since there was nothing else it could be. He was pale, drawn, his head thankfully finding soft purchase in the carpeted floors, Bruce not knowing what would happen if Kal not only fell but bled from his exposure.

Bruce felt frozen in place, his brain seeing what was in front of it but not processing it.

It got worse as his door blew open from inhuman strength, Jor striding in, or as best he could with kryptonite, and kicking it as best he could away from his son. The effect was instant, Kal bolting up and looking for danger.

Bruce should run. In his mind he could see it. He could see himself grabbing Dick as he came to investigate what had happened. He saw himself, mindless of what lack of clothes he had on, sprinting through the manor, taking the kryptonite with him for security. He knew there would be no resistance. Alfred was asleep this time of night, and Lara was still far away enough in the manor she wouldn't know what was going on.

The cars would be easy to get to, the keys still hanging in the mirrors. He could pick any one, the fastest one he could. The security was non-existent these days, whatever orbs Jor had hanging off the gates would be offline. The gates would open for the cars, and since Jor and Kal knew better than to go after him when he was armed they would let him pass.

The drive would be soothing, Dick asking him what was going on, where they were going. Bruce was sure they would have found somewhere in the city to lie low while they figured out a plan. They would have had to rough it a few days, in abandoned buildings or warehouses. He would have to revisit the life he briefly led before attacking the El's. Dick would understand, he would adapt and eventually they would get out, find their way back to Haly's or somewhere else where they could settle down and live normal, none alien, lives.

But, that was only a dream, reality was much harsher. Dick didn't come, Lara did. She was by her son's side in an instant, checking him over for injury just as Jor turned his attention to Bruce. He couldn't hear the words said, he didn't have to hear them said really, Bruce knew the gist of it. He was telling them Bruce was a danger, that he had finally shown his true colours. It was what he'd always wanted and now he was getting it Bruce could read the underlying glee as he gestured and argued his case to his audience.

Bruce couldn't move. He didn't know if it was shock or acceptance. Either way, when the time came where he was whisked, faster than the eye could follow, down to the cave, he didn't put up a fight. He didn't do anything until the see through walls were back around him. Only then did he realise what was happening. That he'd lost.

He screamed. All those years spent putting up with Jor, all those months he'd spent working so hard to get Kal where he wanted them. They were almost free. They were almost free! It built up and let itself out until Bruce was pulling on his hair willing himself to stop. It wouldn't happen. Now he'd opened his mouth he couldn't stop.

Even when his voice ran out his mouth wouldn't close, a silent scream tearing his throat apart.

Something must have knocked him out. Gas, or hell even Jor manually, but there was definitely a period of darkness. When he woke, he was clothed, cleaned and a meal was waiting for him, Alfred's pancakes a mockery of the pattern he had put himself back into.

He flung them against the wall, smashing the plate until shards were biting into his skin. Even then he didn't stop. Jor had put him in clothes, had cleaned the stain his son had left on him. Of course, he didn't want any essence of Kal to linger on Bruce, as a higher life form this should never have happened in the first place.

He finished when his hands were nothing more than ribbons of skin, slumping back and picking at the pancakes that had thankfully remained intact after the first clash of the plate against the cell wall. He didn't have much appetite, the eating more a reason to do something than anything else.

Bruce had never considered himself claustrophobic. As a child, small spaces were better because it meant Kal could never fit himself in alongside him. As an adult who had spent far too much time in here, who had tasted freedom so near only to have it ripped from him, he thought claustrophobia could be added to the list of things wrong with him.

This place was too small, far too small. How had he stood it before? How had he- how had he- how-

Dick was definitely not going to see him again. Not after this. They would do their best to keep Dick away. He would grow up under their thumb no matter what high hopes Bruce had. Kal would keep him placated, they would use him, keep him around for a while to make sure of it. Then, when they knew Dick would no longer fight them, when they knew he had no other options but to, they would send Kal away.

Bruce didn't want that life for him. Dick deserved to be happy, truly happy. He deserved to fly under the adoration of a crowd, not held hostage and forced to play grateful adopted son.

It went to show just how much he'd dropped in the El's standing that no one came to see him until his second meal. Alfred came down with a tray, took one look at Bruce and ran back up, tray and all. He didn't return until dinner, flanked by Kal who did nothing more than stand there while Alfred checked the clots that made up Bruce's hands.

He expected some kind of reprimand, it would just be like Alfred to tell him off for not running or not doing anything but let them bring him back here. He said nothing, just left the same way he came in.

Kal stayed behind, watching Bruce for what felt like days before he spoke. Just one word, "Why?"

"The fact you have to ask that means you think I'm guilty." He could read it in Kal's eyes. The way he held himself. Kal believed every word his father had spoke to him.

Why wouldn't he? Kal had always been a family guy. Coming from a planet that had literally decimated his entire species Bruce supposed family became a top priority after that. Despite what his brain was telling him, the evidence mounted against his father, he would take his side on this. Jor had left him with little choice really. He'd made sure he played nice to Bruce, pretended to be the man that Kal had hoped he was. He'd taken over Bruce's treatments, and Kal had always believed himself intellectually inferior to his father so of course he would believe whatever spiel Jor would spin on Bruce's psychosis. Unstable, known to be volatile and a history of using kryptonite against the family, even if it was too suspicious to be true Kal would believe Jor. To not do so would mean he would have to lose his father. There was no in-between anymore.

"Kryptonite Bruce. What else am I going to think."

"That I was set up?" Genius really. Bruce had been expecting another attack like the break in. Subtle measures weren't really in Jor's forte. Yet here it was. He should really stop underestimating this man.

Kal didn't bother to answer that. To him, the prospect was unheard of. A kryptonian purposely in contact with kryptonite was disgusting. Jor must have been in pain the entire time he was building that little trojan horse. Good.

"Why?" Kal repeated.

He wasn't going to believe him. He wasn't going to listen to anything Bruce had to say about his innocence. To Kal, Bruce had betrayed him just like his father had said. It made him beyond furious. "Why? Because every time you looked at me I wanted to cut my own skin off. You kept me prisoner Kal. Did you honestly think I liked you? It's called Stockholm syndrome."

Every word was expected, it was what Jor wanted him to say and what Kal was waiting for. His reaction was just as pained despite it all. Like his father, he wanted to believe Bruce as much as possible. He was at a decision, one meaning he could ignore what Bruce was saying now, to read the hurt behind every word and break Bruce out. Or, he could believe his father, save his family from falling apart and condemn Bruce to a life without his help. To at last turn on the man who had taken him in and he'd grew up as brother with most of his life.

He couldn't decide. He didn't want to decide, Bruce could tell. Kal bit his lip hard enough to bleed, groaning in frustration before saying, "I have to go. We'll talk when I get back."

Right, the mission. The one in outer space. "I take it back. Kal don't leave," If Kal left who knew what would happen. It had only been his influence that kept the others from doing something terrible. Bruce panicked like he'd never panicked before. If Kal was in outer space he wasn't just a quick fly away. There was nothing to help him if Kal left. "Don't leave Kal please."

Kal didn't see the danger. To him, he was leaving Bruce with a father that he was giving the benefit of the doubt to. "I have to. There are things more important out there than you Bruce."

"Don't leave!" his words fell on deaf ears, Kal zooming out before Bruce could concoct an argument to make him stay. "Kal please!"

He'd been reduced to begging, how depressing.

He could do nothing in his cell. With his hands busted his meal was a trial. After that, there was nothing he could do but sit there. Just sit there as he would be doing the rest of his life.

He knew the moment Kal left their planet. Out of the atmosphere meant that he was officially on League business, Bruce was nothing but a whisper in the wind right now.

Jor came down like Bruce knew he would. A plate of pancakes in one hand and a smile that would put the Cheshire cat to shame he stopped in front of Bruce's cell, tutting at the wounds on his hands. "Those will take a few weeks. Lucky for you you're not doing anything too strenuous today. Or tomorrow."

Bruce felt like the tables had turned when he heard himself asking "Why did you do it?" The same question Jor had asked him all those months ago. They had been just like this, Bruce angry beyond belief and Jor free on the other side.

He must have sensed the poetic likeness since his smile grew bigger. Unlike Bruce, and as the better life form he was, he gave Bruce a real answer. "It's for the best. I know you're intelligent enough to understand that." He slid the pancakes through. "Don't go smashing this plate," He warned. "Really, it's what you deserve. As the old Earth saying goes, a leopard can't change its spots. You betrayed my family once Bruce. As much as you have been behaving these months you are still a leopard and I can't stand the thought somewhere down the line you putting my family through that torture again. You know too much."

"And I suppose that whole thing with Kal didn't exactly help things." He had to get his digs in when he could. Who knew when the next time Jor would come down to see him would be.

A slither of disgust ran across Jor's face. "The fact you touched my son in that primitive way you call love is repulsive. However, that is the way of this Earth. Truthfully, it was always the danger you presented to us as a whole that irked me."

Bruce laughed, he couldn't help it. Right now his emotions were at an all time high, bubbling out of him in bursts. He couldn't control them, and he didn't have the strength to try. "I irk you. That's funny." He got under the smartest man in the world's skin. It wasn't just funny, it was hilarious.

Jor left him laughing in his cell. There was really nothing else they had to say to each other right now. Everything was too raw. Besides, Jor had who knew how long to torment Bruce while Kal was away.

Torment Jor did. Bruce saw no one for days. Or, he thought it was days, he didn't know anymore. Jor was messing with him, either waiting to see if Bruce would really crack or just composing an experiment on him.

He thought the days were being passed by the plates poking into his cell, all of which were delivered by super speed so Bruce wouldn't see them. Pancakes meant breakfast, and breakfast meant a new day. Only, Jor seemed to be messing with that system. He slept and woke to pancakes. He took a nap and woke to pancakes. At some point Bruce wondered if he was sleeping through entire days. When he eventually adapted his nap to what he knew was short he saw that this wasn't the case. Jor was slotting them through, making him lose track of time. He was disorienting him, the first step in breaking someone.

Bruce started staying awake after that. Time meant nothing, but the longer he stayed awake the more variety he saw in his meals. He got pancakes after he slept, so what did he get when he didn't?

Lunch. Dinner. Supper. Nothing. He started marking time in his head, figuring out when the meals were supposed to arrive. When he stayed awake, he got nothing when pancake hour came. Nothing for lunch or dinner either. Only when he slept and went along with the routine did he get food.

The information was useless really. Really, it was just a way to keep him sane. Or, occupied since he didn't know if sane was even on his cards anymore.

His wounds Bruce was left to tend to by himself. Jor didn't give him anything to clean or rewrap them, but Bruce didn't have any doubt he was watching Bruce be resourceful. He used the water he was given one day, the apple juice the next when Jor started messing with his drinks too. It stung like crazy, but if it meant he was starved from infection Bruce was okay with that. Bandages were only good when his hands were bleeding. With nothing to do they had little chance to break open, so he let them heal in the putrid air he was allowed to breathe.

He was doing okay, Bruce thought. He was coping. He didn't realise it at the time but he was. Then Jor came back down.

"I have something for you," He announced, pushing Bruce's dinner through the doors. Bruce had been behaving today, sleeping when he was supposed to be and keeping to the routine without complaint. His reward was a nice pot roast, complete with a folded note. "Open it," Jor prompted. "I think you'll find the contents intriguing."

He saved it until last just to spite Jor. Not that the man minded, he was enjoying this too much to retreat, and since his physiology meant he didn't get tired like the rest of mankind he really could stand there all day if he wanted.

Eventually, just because Bruce couldn't stand to look at his face anymore, Bruce opened the note. There were only four words on it, the rest of it taken up by colour. It was a drawing, Dick's familiar scribbles making the hurt that much worse when he made out what he was seeing.

"It was his homework. He had to draw his family and show it to the rest of the class."

Something every child had to do at one point. Bruce remembered his own. He'd spent hours wondering if he should put his parents on it or the El's. Eventually, he just turned in an empty page, telling the teacher his family were gone.

This page, there were four people on it, and not one of them was Bruce.

He didn't show anything on his face. He didn't have to, his heart had already betrayed him. Jor only stayed for a short while, knowing that Bruce was waiting for him to leave to do something. He would be watching, Bruce knew he always watched.

It wasn't Dick's best work. Back at the circus one of Bruce's prized possessions was a drawing of Zitka he'd done for him. It was mostly a mess of scribbles, Dick never possessing any real art skill, but to Bruce it was the best thing he'd ever been given. He didn't know what it was, the fact that Dick had took the time out of cuddling Zitka to draw her. Or, that there was so much innocence in there that Bruce adored trying to make out which was her trunk and which was a foot. Or, that Dick hadn't given him a cast off. He hadn't been coerced into giving it to Bruce because even the babysitter deserved a drawing. No, Dick had sat himself down and drawn it for Bruce, and to him, that was wonderful.

This work on the other hand, well, Bruce could only hope that it had been done under duress. Dick wouldn't forget him this soon, it had to be Jor's doing. He was trying to mess with Bruce again. That didn't mean it hurt any less.

He looked at the people there, Alfred, Lara, Jor, Kal, and couldn't help think this would be Dick's life from now on. Four people. Not five, four. Bruce wouldn't be there for his graduation, or his wedding. The El's would. Bruce wouldn't. He'd be stuck down here, rotting away.

His dinner came back up, mixing with the shards of plate that were still there from his first day back. Bruce lamented the loss. The vomit would make this cell unbearable in a matter of minutes. The fumes would drive him insane, and only get worse over time. He knew this was also part of his punishment. Oh, he didn't doubt that Jor was going to clean him out. But he was going to make sure to do it just before Kal came back. Until then, Bruce would have to rot in his own filth, something he was already doing.

He wasn't getting out of here.

It finally sunk in.

The picture was ruined, buried under shards and bile. Bruce didn't want to see it anyway, it made him scared. For himself and Dick.

He may have cried. Just enough to do something with himself than just sit there. He stopped himself before he could give Jor the satisfaction of completely breaking him.

Satisfaction. Fear. Bruce found himself in the hours alone wondering when this became his life. When he'd been younger he'd had a plan. He was going to grow up and not be scared. He was going to find a way to never have to answer to anyone. To not let anyone have that power over him without his permission.

That child would be disappointed in what he'd become, Bruce knew he was.

If he was still that kid, he wouldn't be sitting around letting Jor do what he liked. He'd found a way out before and he could do it again. He'd been lazy, stupid. Of course his plan wasn't going to work. Manipulating Kal would have worked if he had been human. But he wasn't, he was an alien and he was safe, he'd been the simpler route because Bruce had let fear dictate what he had to do and say to get out. If Bruce had wanted to get out he should have worked through Jor, that would have been the sure way to get out.

Not that it mattered. He'd made his bed and now he was lying in it. The problem was getting out of this.

Right now, he couldn't think of Dick. The boy was safe, the El's wouldn't hurt him. Bruce himself needed to get out, when he did, he could think about getting Dick later. That had been the original plan after all.

He wasn't getting out of here unless there was an emergency. Jor was keeping him alive and in good health for his son, to prove Bruce's guilt before they condemned him to life in here. Kal, that was what he needed to focus on. Nothing drastic could happen to Bruce while Kal was gone. If it did, he would be forced to reconsider what Jor had told him.

Oh, he had an idea. A dangerous idea that depended solely on him being right about Jor and Kal. Some part of him didn't want to do it, screamed at him that this could end badly. But it had already ended badly, this was it. There was nothing left.

He took a breath, two, and thought of Dick. He was doing this for him. So he picked up the biggest shard he could, mindful of the pain it scratched into his already torn hands and jammed it in the side of his neck.

It had to be his neck- God it hurt- anywhere else Jor could have patched up. Bruce had grew up with a surgeon for a father. Despite not having an education for the past nine years he did know the best place to kill himself slowly- Ow. He could feel his pulse thumping over the shard.

His vision was darkening, his body threatening to go into shock. He tried to keep himself awake.

Voices shattered the silence around him, someone's hands frantically pushing at his hand still at his neck. He put up some resistance, his body instinctually wanting to get the foreign object out of him while his mind kept it still, but only just enough to keep his hand steady on the shard. The voices got louder, but not loud enough to be heard over the blood pounding in his ears.

Shapes were getting hard to identify, Bruce could feel his life flowing out of him from his neck. God it hurt. Still, Bruce didn't regret it. If it didn't work, he'd be away from the El's, he'd see his parents again. He wasn't afraid of death.

It felt like an eternity. Bright lights, more blurry shapes and noise he couldn't quite make out. He faded out not long after his hand was prised from his neck.

He woke to an unfamiliar room. There was a monitor beside him and a mask on his face. Hospital then. His neck was tight, thread pulling at the joined skin as he moved himself up. There was only one person in with him, the man unknown and yet familiar at the same time. Bruce felt he'd seen him before.

Blonde and dozing near the door, it was only when he twitched in his sleep that Bruce placed him. There were only so many beings in this world that could move that fast, and Bruce remembered Dick harassing him for ages with photos of his second favourite hero. Without his cowl, Bruce would have never known it was the Flash, his suit making him look more muscled than every day clothes allowed. It was a good disguise, and it also told Bruce that Kal had been in touch. He must have still been on his mission, or back at the manor with the rest of the El's to have one of his team mates keeping an eye on Bruce.

Not that it mattered.

He didn't know how long he'd been in here. He didn't feel too weak so it must have been a few days.

Bruce gauged the way out. The Flash was in a good position, good for telling who came in and out of the room. He looked like he was out, either from boredom or staying awake so long he just passed out. He didn't know how long speedsters slept for. Did their bodies have a fast recovery rate like their wounds? Did they only need a few hours sleep to feel rested? He wished Dick were here, he was sure he would know the answer.

Nevertheless, none of that mattered if Bruce woke him. His hands stung as he pushed himself gently out of bed. His knees were weak from blood loss and lack of movement, the wobbles almost costing him the precious few seconds the Flash's sleep was granting him. The wires, loathe as Bruce was to leave them in, he couldn't take them out without some kind of major beeping. He left them, for now, and hazarded putting one foot in front of the other. The monitors turned out to be a help when his balance was still being put to right. He leaned on them the whole way to the Flash.

The man stayed asleep as Bruce peaked out of the glass on the door. The ward was quiet, doctors and nurses usually congregating more on the lower levels than the private rooms. Never before now was he thankful he'd spent hours listening to his father complain about hospitals.

The door opened easily under his hands, and why wouldn't it? He wasn't a prisoner to these people, and doctors wouldn't dare lock a door they might need to get into fast.

The monitors didn't stretch farther than the door. Bruce timed it right, knowing the fastest man on Earth could catch him easily if he didn't have a plan. He scouted the hallway again, locating a bathroom near the end. He just had to make it to there.

He waited until the last possible moment, keeping the door opened with his foot and making sure none of it woke the Flash up. The wires came out as painfully as they had to for quick removal, Bruce throwing them down as he used what little strength he had to sprint as the beeping started to the bathroom.

He made it in time to hear the Flash let off a shout, a blur shooting out the door before slowing down as he realised he wasn't in his suit.

Bruce found a stall, flattening himself to one side and clinging hard enough to lift himself up just as the door went. He'd learnt this trick after he'd helped Dick play one too many pranks on John. Sure enough, the Flash busted open every door, the wood banging off the stall and eventually Bruce. The thing was, when someone was in a rush they never questioned why one door didn't make it all the way to the wall. So long as it banged, they would leave it alone and be on their way. The Flash was no different, scurrying out the way he came in, calling for Doctors all the while and leaving Bruce just a little bit more bruised but overall safe.

Bruce estimated he had about ten minutes before the El's would be here. Five for the Flash to give up on the search. One for him to suck up his pride and call. Two for the El's to make sure Bruce wasn't where he was supposed to be and then one before they sped all the way here.

It wasn't much, but it had to be enough.

He started with ditching his gown. For a hospital, spare clothes were easy to come by, all he had to do was walk into a sleeping patient's room and take whatever had been left for them. True, the clothes Bruce found seemed to be from a teenager and were somewhat tight around certain areas, but it was better than nothing.

After that, the best thing to do was to mingle. Hiding meant he was easy to spot, the El's just had to use their x-ray vision and look for someone crouched over themselves or in a place they shouldn't be. A crowded area on the other hand, meant that Bruce could pretend to be part of a group, be looked over and walk out without anyone questioning him.

He ended up in A&E, the simplest way to explain away his quick release and bandage taking up most of his neck. The Flash looked like he'd already ran through here, people having that irked tilt to their faces that screamed of someone roughing them up a bit. Bruce kept his head down as he walked through, just like every Gothamite did, and scurried out the front doors with another group of people.

Transportation was out of the question. He didn't have any money, and he doubted the group that had adopted him would pay for a taxi to midtown Gotham. He could have stole a car. He knew how, the mechanics not hard to figure out, but with his motor skills the way they were he didn't trust himself behind the wheel. Walking was the best option, if the slowest.

Hiking his collar up, he started on the familiar route through the streets of Gotham.

The thing with walking was, he was already unsteady on his feet. As time went by and Bruce too scared to take a break, his vision got more and more blurred, his legs more and more unsteady. He didn't know how he made it to downtown. Everything between the car park and now was hard to remember. What he did perk up at was the familiar bright blue shooting across the sky.

He didn't look up, to do so would be like a beacon to whoever it was. Instead, he found shelter. Loathe as he was to stay here Crime Alley was one of the only places in Gotham where no one asked questions. Things happened, bad things, and only if someone really pressed for answers would the locals give up information.

It made him sick just looking at the space between the houses. He had nothing on his stomach however, which meant that Bruce didn't have long bent over.

The houses were barely that. Apartments really, that were mostly abandoned. The ones that weren't, Bruce didn't spend long wondering what the noises were.

He found one that was at least not covered in needles. The mirror was mostly grime, the shower curtain worse, which meant Bruce had to go by feel to see if he'd done any damage to his neck. Well, any further damage.

There wasn't.

It was a risk to sleep. Any moment he could be ambushed by a meta or an El to take him back to the manor or hospital. The only problem was, even when he tried to stay awake, his mind shut off anyway.

It was a disorientating morning when he woke. The room was too bright thanks to the missing panes and curtains. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or why he was here. Then he felt the twinge in his neck. Right.

He was tempted to sleep some more, but he'd already wasted so much time. He needed to come up with a plan, an actual plan. Another assault wasn't going to be possible for a while. Not from him anyway. For now, he should focus on getting better. A tough thing to do now he was basically homeless.

The first thing was food. He couldn't survive without it. Thankfully, he still remembered his old tricks, and he was even more beat up back then. Getting breakfast and something for later was simple when he remembered which were the easy targets.

He retreated back to the dingy apartment, tidying it up as best he could. When he finished, or gave more accurately, he turned his attention back to the plan. He needed to get Dick out, he needed a plan once he was actually free. He couldn't run on blind luck anymore. He'd already ran out, and Bruce didn't know if he could survive another shard to the neck.

Kryptonite would be the best weapon to get. If he had it, all he had to do was keep it close the rest of his life and he'd be home free. What a life.

No. Plan, plan, plan, that was what he needed, and food. Which was looking strangely low. He was sure he'd stole more than a few tins and a loaf. He must still be recovering from blood loss.

Only, the next day, when he went to further his provisions, he came back and the food he'd left in the apartment was gone. The day after proved the same, and for a wild second Bruce feared he was being messed with again. That Jor had decided to let him stew for a bit before bringing him back. Then, on the fourth day, Bruce was woken by soft feet scurrying near his head. When he made a grab, all he came up with was a dirty kid.

The kid put up a fight, kicking and punching, even biting, to get Bruce off him. Thankfully, Bruce was used to wrestling little kids and had the boy pinned fairly fast.

"You know, if you were hungry you could've just asked."

The kid spat at him, Bruce not even flinching after some of the stuff Dick had thrown at him over the years. "Ge' off!"

Bruce did, but he made sure to keep a hand on the boy's leg. "Here," he gave the kid half of his stash. Bruce had seen kids like him before. Underfed, dirty, and not in the system. Either he had a parent around who cave little to no care what he did with his days, or he was a street kid. Either way, Bruce wasn't going to let him go hungry. He needed to eat, but he had months of homemade meals behind him. Who knew when was the last time this kid had the same. "You know how to heat up soup right?" Bruce checked.

The kid scoffed, "Do I look like an idiot."

"You look like a thief."

"You stole it first," The kid huffed. "I saw you."

Bruce sent the kid on his way before he could start listing all the places Bruce had stole from. He expected that to be the last of it, for the kid to be alright for a couple of days. Yet, the next morning Bruce woke to find the kid rooting through the rest of Bruce's stash. He saw the kid leaving the tins and going for the packet stuff. Nothing he had to heat up. Looks like the kid couldn't heat up soup.

He tried scampering again when he noticed Bruce awake. It didn't take much to pin the kids leg again and force him back to the food. "Okay, this is a tin," He started, and showed the kid how to open it and heat it up without any of the kitchen utensils usually associated with cooking.

The kid pouted throughout the whole thing but didn't put up a fight. In fact, the next morning Bruce saw half of his stash returned and the kid trying out some of Bruce's tips.

"S'not working," he huffed, pushing the tin into Bruce's hands.

"You're not doing it right."

The kid's name was Jason. He lived just down the hall with his mom. He'd seen Bruce stumbling up the first night and thought he recognised him from the papers. While Kal was out of the world it seemed there were other people to fill in the paper's front pages about him. Bruce was plastered all over each issue he looked at when he went searching. There was speculation about his injury, about self harm or an attack. Jason promised he wasn't going to hand Bruce in when he figured out he was running away.

"I'm not a snitch," He promised.

But he was persistent. When Bruce finally went out for more provisions he found himself with a little shadow. Jason was actually rather stealthy. Even if Bruce's motor skills had returned to him he didn't notice Jason until the kid had actually popped up next to him.

"Where are we hitting first?"

Bruce pushed the kid back. "I am going to get another loaf of bread since you've ate the last of the other one. You, are going back home."

"Or," Jason countered, hopping up next to Bruce again. "You teach me how to steal without getting caught and I don't steal off you anymore." He caught the scowl Bruce sent his way. "Come on old man, you're not gonna be around forever, and a boy's gotta eat."

Well, he did have a point. "Fine."

Jason was actually an asset. After a few false starts he taught Jason how to pick pockets and ditch the wallet so he wouldn't be tracked down later. "Cards can be tracked. Paper, not so much." Jason's small hands were also perfect for slipping things into other things.

By the time they got back to the apartment Jason was glued to Bruce's side munching a donut. He was more amendable to cooking lessons, horrid though they were, that afternoon. He was more open too, the hard shell that had surrounded him when he'd first stolen off Bruce cracking to let out the babbling sweetness that was at the core of most eight year olds.

"My mom, she sleeps a lot," He said. "She takes these pill things or sniff something and she just goes to sleep. She says it helps her." The fact this was normal talk for Jason didn't sit with Bruce well. "She doesn't really have time to make me food 'cause when she's awake she has to work and I have to stay in my room if she comes back with someone."

He rambled on for a while, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. It was how kids worked, and if Bruce was honest with himself he'd missed that idle chatter. He missed having someone to fill the silence. He missed his little Robin.

"I'm kind of glad you decided to hide out here," Jason said through bites. "I was gonna steal from the guy upstairs but he looks a bit dangerous. I think he'd probably chop my hand off or something."

"What guy?"

Which was how Bruce and Jason found themselves on the top floor using someone's balcony to look into what looked like an abandoned apartment.

It was artful, Bruce thought. The place really did look abandoned, but there were little things here and there that meant it was just a cover. The lack of glass was one. With so many busted windows there should have been a horde of glass on the floor. There wasn't, and the glass that was there was scattered in such a way that it left a gap around the window. Whoever was here was doing surveillance.

Then there was the food. Bruce could see the fridge where they stood. Jason had already confirmed that the food was in date. There were no dishes in the sink or utensils lying around. Someone had tidied up. The bedding in the corner looked recently used as well. The corners were still standing straight rather than lying flat like they would have done overtime from lack of use.

Someone was staying here. They didn't want to be found and they needed the window. Jason was right to keep away. Whoever was here was dangerous, and they likely wouldn't be here long.

He lured Jason back down with the promise of the last stolen donut.

The two of them went back out the next day stealing. It wasn't so much about food as it was a chance for Jason to safely practice his new skill set. It also gave Bruce something to do without feeling like he was wasting his freedom here.

He made sure Jason was fed before he sent him back to his mom, tempted to let the kid stay here if he didn't think Jason had a better set up in his own room. As soon as the kid was gone, Bruce went back to the balcony, hopping the short distance to the other apartment.

He was in luck, the pile of blankets now housing a huddle beneath them. Before he even tried to approach the huddle he found himself pinned to the wall. Like, really pinned, his shoulder had a knife through it. He grit his teeth as the huddle stretched and grabbed another knife.

The guy was slim, not too tall, and was average enough that he would get away slipping into a crowd. There was a danger to him however, one that was more than the two knives he knew about. This guy was a trained killer. Bruce was beginning to question his choices leading up to now.

"Want to tell me what you're doing snooping around."

"Looking for a teacher." He didn't see any reason to keep it a secret.

"And you came here?"

"I'm looking for a very specific kind of teacher." One who could teach him how to disappear. That was always the problem with his plans, how to disappear. These people did it for a living, they were his best option.

Unfortunately, Bruce knew they weren't exactly always hiring. The guy in front of him proved it by pinning Bruce's other shoulder with the second knife. "I don't think you'll find one here."

"No," Bruce agreed. "But I'm sure whoever you work for would be willing to do it."

The guy arched an eyebrow. "I don't think you understand kid, you're not going to be breathing long enough to even remember my boss' name than meet him."

"Oh, I think I will." The best thing he'd learnt about getting people to do what he wanted was to be cocky. When he was, people loved to prove him wrong. "See, I was smart enough to figure out who you are and what you're doing here. Really, a guy with a brain like mine would be an asset to someone in your profession. If you kill me, you're wasting potential. I think your boss would be more pleased with you bringing someone in that could help him rather than killing me and missing out. But, it's your choice."

The knives were pulled out.


	9. Chapter 9

"Take me with you."

Bruce should have screamed at him to get out, to run and hide in one of the empty apartment blocks until they were gone. He didn't, he couldn't, what strength he had was used in not screaming as the knives cut further and further into his muscle.

He hadn't even known Jason had been listening, the boy had gone back to his own apartment, Bruce had seen for himself. Yet, somehow, he was here, clinging onto Bruce's leg and begging him to take him with him.

The worst part was the assassin hadn't even agreed to take him. He looked as shocked as Bruce, his eyes zipping between Jason next to Bruce and the door. Bruce didn't doubt it had been locked and probably booby trapped, how the kid had gotten past them was a mystery. Nevertheless, the break in didn't exactly help Bruce get into the guys good favour.

"Ignore him," Bruce choked out, "Just take me to your boss."

The guy stood there for a few minutes longer, still looking like he was puzzling out how Jason got in before he dug out the knives from Bruce's skin. "You're both coming."

"No. Jason go home."

The kid didn't leave Bruce's ankles, clutching on tighter now Bruce was free of the wall. The assassin hauled him up by his scruff, levelling a knife Bruce's way when he made to get Jason out of reach. "He's coming. It'll save me having to kill him later."

Jason realised his mistake too late, and by that time he could do nothing more than allow himself to be towed out of the apartments and into the nearest car they found. Bruce tried to stop his wounds from bleeding out, knowing the assassin was just waiting for that to happen so he could just leave Bruce behind. Thankfully, the wounds were avoided bones and major muscles which meant Bruce just had to worry about the blood.

Weirdly enough, Jason didn't demand to be taken back home, or scream to be let out. He was shaking in his seat, but quiet and calm the whole drive to the airport. He didn't cling to Bruce anymore, he didn't even make eye contact, something about his behaviour setting Bruce on edge. A kid didn't run away from home for no reason, and Jason was most definitely asking to run away when he'd begged Bruce to take him. Something had happened in the time between going home and bursting through the door.

Bruce kind of wished he'd put this off for another night. Just so he could ask Jason what was wrong. There would be no way the assassin would leave them alone. With Bruce on his own he had assurance that Bruce wasn't going to run, he'd said so himself his goal was to meet the guy's boss. With Jason there however, he didn't have that security anymore. Bruce would want to get Jason away, keep him safe, which he was trying to figure out how to do now. So no, there would be no time alone to ask Jason what had happened. All Bruce could tell was it was bad, and to kids, a lot of things were bad, only a few things were bad enough to keep quiet while he was being kidnapped by a killer.

They got to the airport without any problems, the assassin hurrying them along through crowds to a private area. It went to show how much people in Gotham kept to themselves that they didn't bat an eye at a guy covered in blood with a kid whose clothes had seen better days.

The assassin had came here on a private plane, the tank full and ready for take off as soon as he got they strapped in. Bruce was right about him belonging to an organisation at least. One with money too, and influence, since Bruce was sure he didn't fuel this thing himself. He wondered who else in Gotham was connected to these people.

He supposed, if things went the way he planned, he would find out.

The flight was long, longer than it would be if they were staying in America. Despite the fact he was weak from so many injuries he didn't sleep at all. For one, he didn't trust the assassin not to off him in his sleep. Another, he didn't want to make Jason feel like he was alone.

The boy still wouldn't come close to Bruce, not like he would have hours before. His shaking had subsided now they were on the plane, Jason occupying himself by looking outside the windows or playing with the little buttons and gadgets that came with a private jet.

Bruce wasn't stupid, he could figure out what could have went on, but really, he didn't want to. Some part of him, despite what he knew of this world, just didn't want to accept that level of evil happening to a boy like Jason.

It had been less than three hours when Jason ran through the door. He'd obviously heard what Bruce had said, which meant he'd been lurking outside for a while as well. Considering the time between Bruce leaving and getting to this apartment with the time in which Jason could have ran back to him, that meant there was at least an hour where Jason was fine at home. Bruce hoped. He estimated ten minutes to half an hour for things to get bad in Jason's apartment, which could mean a whole host of things.

He still had his pyjama's on, a ratty wonder woman logo with a little stain on the front Bruce knew Jason had made the night before. They didn't look ripped up or mussed more than a quick getaway would make them, which gave Bruce some hope. There was however, a nice bruise blossoming from his wrist, and another two on his ankles. They were too big to be a woman's hands, the fingers too thick and colour showing very little in the term of gaps that would happen if a more slender hand had grabbed him. The two on his ankles were of different sizes, which meant more than one person had been present. The good news was Bruce didn't see any more bruises, or any blood. Jason was a survivor, Bruce knew that, he only hoped he managed to break a few noses before running to catch Bruce.

The plane touched down just as Jason decided to drop off. Bruce didn't want to push the kids boundaries right now, but he also didn't want to get the assassin any more riled than he already was, so he picked Jason up and hoped the kid would forgive him as they cut their way through another airport.

They had landed somewhere in Asia, Bruce recognising some words here and there the last time Haly's had done a tour. He would have known exactly where had they used planes when they travelled. Unfortunately, transporting an elephant on a plane was never a good idea and was always costly, so they had used the ferries. Thankfully, the universe gave him a break as he recognised the word for taxi in Mandarin. China then.

The assassin didn't say much to them as they started on foot through the busy streets. Really, all he said was, "He falls behind, you leave him," referring to Jason still snoozing in Bruce's hold.

The trek would have been hard had Bruce not got a kid in his arms. His throat still hurt, his shoulder was killing him from the knife and well, Bruce hadn't walked more than a couple of miles since his stint in the hospital. He wasn't well enough to make a journey to the park never mind the hazardous journey through China they were making. Yet he did. Somehow, perseverance won out again. Bruce walked with Jason when he slept, he made sure the kid kept up when he slowed down. He made sure he walked every step without so much as a grimace just to prove that he wasn't going to wimp out.

They made it a week on foot before the streets and houses began to disappear altogether. The assassin had been rather good at getting them things to survive on. Sure, Jason and Bruce got the scraps, Bruce more so since he kept giving most of his to Jason, but still, he was alive when the terrain started getting tougher.

Blisters were a common thing, and made walking even more difficult. Jason was prone to getting them a lot, his feet covered in them when they stopped for the night. He didn't mention them when he set off with them the next morning. He didn't mention them at all until he held his feet on an evening. Bruce tried to carry him as often as he could, since it was his fault they were in this mess, but with his shoulder still stinging and climbing being thrown into the mix these days, it became more and more difficult to keep Jason off his feet.

The days passed, Jason finally getting back to the bubbly little boy he'd been before he'd left. He wasn't comfortable when the assassin was in earshot, but as soon as he was out of it, Jason was talking to Bruce like they were on a sightseeing holiday. It turned out he'd never been outside of Gotham before. He didn't even know what some of the animals they saw were, which went to show how good his education was. Bruce happily indulged him even when the assassin was around, pointing out what things were when they passed them. He figured, just because they might be marching to their deaths it didn't mean he shouldn't make the most of it.

Eventually the sky became non-existent as they started on the mountains. Blisters were the least of their worries now. The rough rock cut their hands, sliced their clothes open and made their shoes redundant. There were creatures Bruce didn't want to guess at that left half eaten animals in their path. Rock falls were a near daily occurrence, and, more than once, they had to backtrack or take cover as it became too dangerous to continue on that path.

Strangely, the closer they got to their destination, the more the assassin looked out for them. Bruce almost saw pity on his face as he told them they had another two days before they were there.

It was a hard two days, made only slightly better when the assassin stopped for more than a few minutes at a stream. "Clean up," he ordered, doing so himself.

The water was fresh and welcome on Bruce's tired body. He wiped away weeks worth of sweat and blood, wishing he had something new to change into but the stolen clothes he'd taken what felt like a lifetime ago. He did change back into them, and when he felt like the grime wasn't going to get any thicker he helped Jason clean his feet as painlessly as possible.

"Bruce?" The tiny foot in his hands slipped away as Jason scooted in closer. "Am I gonna die?"

He wanted to immediately say no, to tell Jason he was going to be alright. But the kid wasn't that dumb. He'd heard what the assassin had said, that he wouldn't have to come back to finish Jason off if he came with them. If it wasn't for the fact Gotham to Jason was worse than here, Bruce was sure he would have been scared. Right now, he just looked resigned. What a life for someone so young.

"I don't know," Bruce bit out. It was the most honest he could be. Truth be told he wasn't so sure himself that he wasn't going to die. Maybe he and Jason had more in common right now than being in the same place.

They set off at the assassin's command, this time not stopping for the night. Instead, they made their way through a series of pathways that grew more and more difficult to navigate as the light gave out. Bruce didn't bother letting Jason try and walk it, he didn't like the idea of looking back and not seeing Jason again, the boy probably trampled by a rockfall or down the side of a cliff. Even if they were going to die, Bruce wanted to prolong it as long as possible. He happily suffered the extra strain on his arm as he tried to keep up with the assassin.

Eventually they came to a clifftop, the assassin walking the ledge, making some kind of sign and leading them to the bridge a few metres across.

They didn't encounter anyone the whole way into the mountain. The stone was lit with torches, the passages narrow, yet, somehow, Bruce felt eyes on him the whole way down.

They finished the tour in a wide stone chamber, the assassin left their side, motioning for them to remain. Bruce thought he would have been panicking, or at least a little clammy standing here. He'd dreamed of this for weeks, ever since they got on the plane, and had, in his mind, knew he would crumble when it came for him to prostrate himself. Yet, standing here, he felt nothing but serenity. It was like he was finally moving forward with his life instead of stuck, standing still while the world moved on without him.

He wasn't scared.

He breathed easy as the shadows shifted around them, people who had been trained to blend into their surroundings covering any and all exits. They were masked, covered from head to toe in black. Bruce tried to make some distinctions, to separate one eye colour from another. Even there Bruce found difficulty it seemed. It wasn't that he couldn't see any differences, more, that when he tried to recall them all he seemed to remember was how bland they all were. Like all the life had been trained out of them. They were subservient to the last morsel of their soul. While Bruce didn't want to sell his entire being to this organisation, he did need their help.

He would figure out the other problems when they presented themselves. For now, he just had to focus on not dying.

As the last of the shadowed beings came in so did their tour guide. He stopped by Bruce, clapping him on the back before joining the rest of his brethren.

He put Jason down, ready to at least try and put up a fight if it came down to it for Jason. The boy didn't make it easy, wrapping himself like a boa constrictor around Bruce's leg. He kept a brave face despite that, glaring at the people around him like they'd done him a personal wrong.

It was interesting. When the man came in, there was no distinction between himself and his followers. He was dressed the same, moved the same, and yet there was an air around him that screamed power. The others were mere carbon copies, forced to try and be like him but never quite achieving it.

When he stopped, he stood like everyone around him was beneath him, and, although they tried, not one of them could argue equality in this place.

He didn't dally about with formalities. He'd been watching them for a while, Bruce could tell, and more than just the observations the others had made when they had entered this place. Bruce would guess he'd been following them for two or three days, around the time their tour guide's attitude had softened towards them.

"Plead your case."

There it was, the invitation Bruce needed. It reminded him of another life, another time he had to prove himself. He'd learned since that stint in Eleanor's cage however.

He nudged Jason forward, making the boy stop cowering and stand up straight, his small hands were already balled up, like he was just waiting for one of them to make a move.

"This is Jason. He's seven, a runaway and has no one back home who would miss him. While I'm sure you agree adults are more preferable to train as assassins, I'm sure not even you can argue there's always something more precise as a killer trained from a young age."

There was silence, a moment where every eye in the room was considering Jason. The boy didn't so much as blink back at them, his instincts strong in times of danger. Then, the man spoke again. "I did not ask for the boy. Plead your case stranger."

Bruce huffed, knowing this was it. He dropped to his knees. "I have nothing to offer you. No skills, no contacts. I came to you in desperation, knowing that a sword was waiting at the end. I can only plead for Jason."

The leader stepped forward, unsheathing his sword at his side. "You realise I execute intruders and loose ends."

Of course Bruce did, the assassin had said so himself when Bruce first stumbled upon him.

Bruce focused on those green eyes of their leader, knowing this was it, and proud of himself that he wasn't afraid. "It is better to die an honourable death at your hand than live with what awaits me." He bared his neck, the shallow cut that had once almost taken his life stretching until the man had a clean angle.

Yet, the blade did not come.

Instead, the man pulled off his hood, looking over Jason once more before turning to Bruce. "You will learn here that youth and desperation often go hand in hand when becoming a proficient killer."

There was a slight twitch of his hand, enough of a signal that men came forward and rushed Bruce and Jason out of the room and down into another set of passages.

They were brought lower and lower into the mountain until they came to a set of hallways. Each of them were a mixture of iron bars and stone rooms, all of them clear prisons. There wasn't anyone in them, no bodies or men weeping. There was no one but Jason, Bruce and their party. Bruce didn't know if this was because they didn't keep prisoners or if their prisoners were as silent as them.

Either way, it didn't matter. Soon enough Bruce was let into his own cell, Jason joining him in the cold room. They were left unchained, but in a place like this that hardly mattered. There were no doors or windows. There was no light to speak of. If Jason hadn't immediately climbed Bruce as soon as the chamber door shut Bruce would have thought himself alone.

"Are they going to kill us?" Jason asked again, his voice steady despite his tremors.

"No," Bruce could say now. "They're not."

It was a bit like his first time at Haly's, and not at all at the same time. He knew this was his time to prove himself, but the how would probably not present itself how Bruce wanted it to. They were left in the cell for hours, the only time they were let out was to be brought into another chamber.

He didn't know what happened to Jason, the two of them separated as soon as they entered, but for Bruce, the time he was out of his cell was spent in pure torture. The first time he was out, they locked him in a room full of snakes.

Bruce remembered reading a book on being able to tell from their eyes and markings which were poisonous and which weren't. It didn't really help him here since the snakes were coiled on top and around each other, the only part of the floor clear where Bruce now stood.

He didn't even try navigating his way around the room, he knew these snakes had probably been starved from the way they stilled and started lying closer to the ground. Snakes relied on vibrations. If Bruce could just get somewhere they would be incapable of reaching, or made him quiet to a snake, he would be fine.

He ended up climbing the wall, perching himself at the top for hours until the assassins came to find him.

The next time he was let out, they covered his head so he didn't know where he was. Blinded, he was thrown into the snake pit again, the lot of them sliding over his feet before he managed to navigate himself to the wall and up again. He faced the snakes seven times before they switched it up.

Water was next, Bruce expected to untie or simply swim around until they came to get him. Like the snakes, there was no way out, no way to rest if he wanted to live. Heat was after that. The hot room he was thrust into only once. His feet were bare and subjected to stones that made his skin sizzle upon contact. Bruce suffered through this one less silently than he did the last.

He was dragged back to his cell after that one, his feet to burnt to support him.

Jason, like all the other times he met up with the kid, didn't seem too banged up. True, Bruce couldn't see him, but Jason didn't complain when he shifted or moved through the hours alone. Also, true, Jason was a kid who probably wouldn't complain even if he was hurt, so Bruce only had the hope it wasn't that which kept him silent.

The hot room meant that when they came for him again, Bruce could barely move never mind walk. His burns had hardened in the night and stung whenever it pulled in motion. Unlike bringing him here, the assassins didn't help in the slightest Bruce reach his trial for the day.

He was surprised when they avoided the hot room. The last two rooms Bruce had faced seven times each, all of them a way for him to survive in the same conditions with some of the variables changed. This chamber was empty of everything except two wooden beams. They stood at the centre of the room, no decoration adorning them except twin stains that joined together at the bottom.

He was spread, hands and feet on each until his body could fall forward and still be upright. Bruce realised what was going to happen. He didn't struggle, he didn't do anything. It was his choice to be here. A stupid choice maybe, but he'd done a lot of stupid things lately.

The first stroke wasn't that bad. The whip hurt, yes, by considering he'd had his neck and shoulder stabbed, been half starved and burned beyond belief, a small stroke across his back was nothing. Neither was the second. It was only when the assassin behind him started making his strokes more precise that Bruce's weary body actually felt something.

It hurt when it struck over bone, stung bad when it landed over an already open laceration. The worst part, he had to admit, was none of the above. Actually, it was the blood. There was something vile about a continuous stream of blood seeping into already stinging skin. It burned, and because there was no place for it to rest it joined the rest of the stream in a steady journey down his back.

He didn't know how long he stood there, or how many strikes before it left. All he knew was pain, then the ground beneath his knees as he was released.

He wouldn't sleep. He knew better that with so many open wounds he could easily go into shock, so he tried to stay awake, tried to remember why he was doing this.

The reason was hard to think of.

His vision blurred as shapes moved around him until a bright torch was the centre of his vision. He was pretty sure he'd been moved. He could feel the stinging in his back intensify as someone wiped it down. A voice spoke, a hand on his shoulder, and then the torch was all he knew again.

He dozed at some point, exhaustion too hard to fight off. He was honestly surprised to wake up. Even more that he hadn't woken to darkness. Instead, he was in something that looked like a bedroom. Well, it had a bed. One that was heaven on his front.

Arching his back was a mistake, his skin screaming at the mistreatment he'd allowed it. He carried on anyway, not about to let this keep him down.

The room was sparse, nothing but a pitcher of water and bowl of fruit present with him. Bruce stumbled his way towards them, the small morsels he'd choked down when they were brought to him not nearly enough to sate his hunger. It was the best thing he'd tasted in a while, Bruce having to force himself in the end not to eat everything.

He didn't trust this place. Yes, he trusted them not to poison his food and water, but that wasn't to say he wasn't going to be locked in here more than an hour or two.

Eventually, he had to sit down again, his back playing havoc with his legs. When he was younger, he'd always been confused when he went to work with his father. People would come in with bad backs and could barely walk. He'd asked why, since the two seemed unconnected. Now he knew different. The back put a strain on everything, including the legs, enough that it overrode the stretch of his hardened feet in order for some relief back on the bed.

He was conscious for a while before he was dragged out for his next trial.

They led him to a waterfall first, shoving him under the spray. Bruce felt the amusement in their hands, figuring they must like picking on the new recruits. Bruce didn't give them the satisfaction of making a noise, instead he bit his lip the whole time he was under the spray.

He kept his feet steady when they dragged him back out, taking him not below again but up.

It was only one floor, but Bruce felt like he'd achieved something. That he'd passed the first of however many tests. It was nice, for once, to be rewarded instead of considered with suspicion like he was used to.

The room he was brought to was as scant as the last, devoid of everything including the wooden beams. Bruce was left on his own, his feet finally giving in as he sat on the stone. He wasn't alone for long. The man he'd glimpsed for only a moment came in, regarding Bruce for a moment, his sword drawn at his side, before setting it on the floor and sitting in front of Bruce. "The best thing to do in an unusual environment is to find a place to shield your back. That way, you only have one direction of danger to worry about."

"Untrue." Bruce cleared his throat, the skin still raw from disuse. "If everyone thought that way then traps would be much easier to create. Trick walls, thin walls. Danger doesn't stop just because something is in its way, it merely slows it down."

The man nodded. "How is your position here any better then?"

Bruce didn't even have to think. He'd been a cornered animal all his life, escape for him wasn't impossible just something he hadn't thought of yet. "You have me bloodied, burnt and most likely poisoned had I not evaded those snakes. I've been beaten down, I'm weak before you and you know it. You see no danger, just a defeated man. You have dropped your sword and inadvertently shown me the layout of your home. My position is not better, it is strategic considering the trials you have placed me through."

The man smiled like Bruce had actually got something right. There was nothing behind it, no hidden motive, he was unused to it. "You are a clever man Bruce Wayne. Far too clever to be here that is for sure."

"I'm not."

"Oh, but you are," The man corrected. "Men who come to me are looking for a purpose in this world. A way to live when there is nothing left. You are not them, despite telling me that you are."

"I-" He tried to argue. He couldn't be thrown out. Not after making it this far.

"You are not them," The man said again. "But you do need my help and that I will give you." Bruce breathed easier, not knowing until now just how much he'd needed to hear those words. "I warn you, it will not be easy. You will face things you've never dreamed of. But when you are finished, you will be better for it."

"Thank you."

The man smiled again, holding out his hand, "My name is Ra's Al Ghul. It's nice to meet you Mister Wayne."

They met every day in that same stone chamber, sometimes they would sit in silence. Sometimes Ra's would give Bruce updates on Jason. It turned out the boy was getting a better deal than Bruce. Now they were both starting their training Jason was being taken into the higher tiers of the league. He got lessons every day on something new, and, according to Ra's while he wasn't skilled he was determined and that made him a good student.

Sometimes, Ra's talked about what was going on in the world, the changes he wanted to make. Mostly, they talked about Bruce. In the short span they had talked to each other Ra's had learnt all he could about Bruce. His tragic childhood, his time at the circus and the incident that landed him in the hospital. He knew the media news, anything more he was waiting for Bruce to reveal.

He didn't push, Bruce knew the interest wasn't real after all. All an assassin looked for were weaknesses after all. But what little interest he had Bruce appreciated.

"Why are you here?" was his most common question.

The answer Bruce had given first was that he wanted to disappear. He got his back slapped for that. All the answers he gave afterwards received the same treatment too. Eventually, Bruce could say nothing more than, "I don't know." He didn't get a slap for that. He did get sent back to his room to think on his answer.

On the twelfth day, Ra's taught him meditation. They sat for a while in the same position, Bruce's still healing back protesting the first couple of minutes. As soon as he relaxed, Ra's would ask him questions. "Do not think about the answers. Just speak, it will help you."

The questions were the same. Why was he here? What did he wish to learn? How was he going to do this?

They had three sessions before another change happened. One morning, or what he presumed morning was, he meditated with Ra's. Afterwards when his answers weren't as forthcoming as Ra's would have liked, shadows would appear at the entrance to take Bruce to the higher tiers. There, he met with Jason again, the kid running away from his instructor to show off the new bruise he'd gotten.

"It hurt, but it's meant to because I punched right."

Ra's was right about Jason being determined. Bruce was given the same instructor since to them he was just as unskilled as Jason. The two of them went through drills, and while Bruce recalled the stances from his karate days, he could see Jason struggling slightly. Yet, whenever Jason fell or did something wrong he didn't complain or whine, he got right back up and tried again.

He looked like he was enjoying himself. Probably because they were going easy on him. Bruce not so much. Their instructor, when he'd given Jason drills to practice would send him off to the side before turning to Bruce. While Jason only got some sparring through the day, Bruce's was mostly if not all sparring when he'd finished with Jason.

He didn't mind. He learned and he adapted. It didn't mean that every punch and kick hurt less, or that he got hit less. If anything, he got hit more when he got the hang of things. He went to bed every night with pains in his body and blood on his skin. He woke up every morning and met with Ra's, he trained and he slept and he did it again and again and again and he loved it.

Yet one morning he wasn't brought to his usual room. Instead, he was taken to one of the cells. There were torches all around, lighting up the stone chamber. The door was locked from the outside, Ra's already in his usual seat.

"Today Bruce, we're hopefully going to get some answers from you."

The how was a drug, one he said Bruce should be familiar with.

It wasn't until he saw the tell-tale markings on the side that he knew from where. He'd seen the syringes that scratched along the sides, the man whose hands shook from medication withdrawal. He's helped him escape, had sat on a rooftop and watched just what that gas could do.

"Fear toxin."

"To understand yourself, you must face your greatest fears."

Bruce fought the urge to run. Anticipation was almost worse than the drug itself, his mind replaying what it knew over and over again, telling him this time there was no way to escape it. No mask to keep the toxins out. Ra's seemed ot be waiting for something, maybe Bruce to tell him no.

He didn't, just nodded his head and allowed Ra's to spray the gas.

The effect wasn't immediate like Bruce would have thought. He could still see Ra's in front of him, the torches behind and his hands in front. It was there, until it wasn't.

He didn't know a Ra's. He didn't…

Bruce was playing in the garden, his father at work and mother somewhere in the manor. He'd promised he'd play outside for an hour. Pinky promised even.

He didn't like listening to his parents worry on an evening, talking about him when they thought he was in bed. He didn't like that they thought he was odd. He didn't want to be odd.

Only, being normal was turning out harder than it should be. To him, normal was sitting in the library reading a new book and testing his memory afterwards. Not standing out in the garden looking for things to entertain himself with.

He had heard them go on about friends, maybe bringing some of their associates with kids around so Bruce could interact with them. He didn't want them to come around. There was nothing wrong with him. He was proving it now.

He had made a point of running about where Alfred or his mother might see him, for the most part just wandering across the lawn.

"Bruce," Martha called. He knew an hour hadn't passed just yet, still she was calling him in.

He could have went. He was basically free right now. Only, he didn't like that resigned look on her face, the tiredness that told Bruce she would be having another conversation with Bruce's father that night.

He wasn't odd. He wasn't.

He plastered a grin on his face, running away from her and to the edge of the lawn. "Sorry mother. I'm having too much fun."

She didn't look any less happy with his words, calling for him again. "Bruce, sweetheart, just come in."

He ran faster before she could come after him herself. She was fast when he wanted to be, always catching him when it was bath time or he was sneaking into his parents room to look for his Christmas presents.

He was normal and he was proving it. Until the lawn gave out under his feet. He fell, more than just to the ground, the ground was moving with him until he was thudding against a hard floor, demons with wings flying around his head.

He just wanted to show them. Show them they didn't need to worry, and he was punished for his efforts. One flew towards his face, its talons ready to take his eyes out and he screamed. Screamed as the ground under him grew wet and red, as the man whose face he had nightmares of ran away like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just left Bruce an orphan. He screamed from fear that the man might come back. From the prospect of growing up not knowing what he was going to do without his mom and dad. He screamed from rage because he didn't want to be scared.

He screamed because there were aliens at his front door. Ones with powers he could only dream of. If they had been here just a few months earlier they could have helped him. Why were they late? Why was it them that had these powers?

He hated them. He was scared of them. He didn't want to be friends with them, he just wanted to be alone.

Alone. Jor was going to make sure he was alone. He wasn't going to let him out. Keep him captive the rest of his life. The demons came back, their red eyes glinting, and then they were gone, Ra's replacing it, over him.

He caught his breath, the room coming back to him. His brain was still hazy when Ra's spoke, asking him, "Why are you here?"

"I don't want to be scared anymore," he said.

Ra's nodded his head, looking pleased with his answer. "What are you here to learn?"

"How not to be scared."

"How are you going to do this?"

"I don't know," Bruce said. He really didn't. The revelations had come so suddenly, the memories he'd forgotten about. The fear, the anger at the fear, the want to change, to become something that would never feel that powerless again.

"Fortunately I do. You did well Bruce," Ra's praised, another quick motion with his hand having the room unlocked and men coming to take Bruce to his training.

The fear toxin was a new part of his training. It happened every three days, Ra's telling him he didn't want to overwhelm Bruce's senses. With each session Ra's helped him work out what he wanted.

Why did he leave home? He didn't want to stay with people who were pretending to be his family. Why did he hate them? They could do things, had things Bruce envied. They had taken everything from him, left him with nothing, and when he had nothing left to give them they took that too.

Ra's complimented his training one morning before they began. "You seem more focused now your mind is clearer."

"I feel more focused." It also could have been because his back had finally healed. Of course, that meant very little when he was being battered every day, but that had been the worst he'd received so far. He was able to move more freely and react much more quickly, he felt more like he had a chance rather than being a punching bag waiting for its next beating.

It also helped that his lack of distractions meant he could get a bit creative with his fighting style. He'd made more than one assassin punch him really hard because he'd almost bested them. Turned out, being trained as an acrobat really had its advantages.

He went under the gas again, bracing himself for the immersion. It was honestly like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He wasn't just hallucinating, he was reliving. He had no other memories than what he was feeling in the moment, no other feelings but that of fear as it accelerated his heart and messed with his mind.

"Why are you here Bruce?" Ra's asked again afterwards.

"To not be scared."

"How are you going to do this?"

Jor's face came to mind. "I want my life back."

"How are you going to do this?" Ra's repeated.

Now that Bruce had said it he realised that was what he wanted. He wanted the life he was going to make for himself. The one before the El's came into his life. He wanted his house, his company, his city back. He wanted a place where Dick would be happy, where he wouldn't be held captive every time he was away from Bruce. Where he didn't have to want for anything, and where Bruce didn't have to hide in the shadows or manipulate people to get it for him.

"I'm going to take my home from the El's. My company. I'm going to become strong enough that no one will take advantage of me again."

"And you will."

He had no more sessions after that. Ra's said he'd had all he would from the gas, and that it was down to Bruce to figure out the rest without a narcotic's help.

Bruce didn't mind. He'd discovered more than he ever thought he would by coming here. For the first time in his life Bruce felt like himself again. Truly himself.

Which of course was when something bad had to happen. The universe was never so kind as to let him be for a while.

He'd just finished his drills for the day. Since he knew this place well after months of training he was allowed to walk its halls on his own. His room had been moved again to one of the higher tiers of the mountain. Right next to Jason's actually. He barely saw the boy these days. When he was finished, he would scurry back to his room to practice more. Really, the only time Bruce saw him was when he was hungry, the boy sneaking into Bruce's room to pick at the fruit before Bruce eventually went to get him something more substantial to eat. Naturally, they had to hunt it on their own, and since Jason wasn't all that handy in the snow just yet he relied on Bruce to hunt and cook it for him. Bruce was just thankful he had learned how to cook over an open flame.

Today, Jason was still bothering his tutor to show him how to jump kick without falling on his butt, which meant Bruce had a few hours before he had to transverse the cold outside. He'd planned on dressing his wrist, maybe getting a nap in since the latest in his training was attacking him when he least expected it. Sleep meant nothing to someone who was constantly being targeted by enemies.

Yet, as soon as he walked through the door none of that was a possibility. Bruce had already flung a knife before the door was closed and his wrist twisted to stop any more attacks. He didn't even try to struggle, he knew Kal was too strong to counterattack like this.

He was let go when Kal had moved him further inside the room. Sitting on the bed, he waited for Kal to finish making sure Bruce wasn't going to escape.

"What are you doing here?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit late but I rewrote this like 3 times.

He could see Kal's hands itching to touch him again. They twitched at his side as his eyes roved over places he was definitely using his x-ray vision to look over. Bruce would have felt violated if he wasn't more concerned about the fact Kal was here at all.

"Kal," Bruce prompted.

"Did they do that to you?"

Bruce didn't even begin to guess at what Kal was looking at. He'd gotten so many injuries, so many bruises in the short time he'd been at the league that he could only guess at what specific wound had grabbed Kal's attention.

Nevertheless, he said "Yes," knowing that there was no denying what had happened to him. "However, that doesn't answer my question. What the hell are you doing here?"

Kal didn't answer. Instead he ran a hand through his hair until his spit curl was lost in the rest of his waves. If he was any other man, Bruce would have thought he would start pacing. He didn't. Just stood there and looked Bruce over. "I can't believe they did to you," he said eventually.

"Do what?"

Kal waved his hand, not landing on one specific example to use. "Why didn't you call for help? Why didn't you shout for me? I would have come for you."

Something wasn't adding up here. It sounded like Kal was worried about him. More, it sounded like Kal thought he was in danger. That he wasn't here of his own volition. "Aren't you mad at me?" Bruce tried.

"Mad?" Kal's brow furrowed, "Why would I- Oh, you mean about the kryptonite. Bruce, my father explained everything to me when I got home. Alfred was the one who put it there. He was worried about you. And I know that doesn't excuse how I reacted, but I just couldn't think straight that night. All I kept thinking about was when you attacked us last and my father… I should have believed you. I'm so sorry."

"Alfred?" No, that didn't make sense. Jor had confessed himself that he was the one who planted the kryptonite. Was Kal not listening? Could he listen in? Bruce couldn't remember how far away he was when that conversation took place. He supposed Jor could have waited for the moment Kal was out of range. But, if he was planning on keeping Bruce down there indefinitely then why put the blame on Alfred. Why not just say it was Bruce?

"Yeah. I couldn't believe it either until he said so himself. He'd seen the bruises I'd made. Apparently he was going to tell you in the morning that if I got a bit too rough with you to use it. I understand, I mean, I did hurt you, it's only right he wants you to be safe. I just wish that he'd at least told my father before he put you in that cell again."

Alfred had confessed himself. Why would he do that? Bruce knew the words out of his mouth were Jor's despite what Kal believed. It was obvious, the perfect way for Jor to cover his tracks. The question it posed however, was what they had on Alfred that would make the butler comply. Bruce knew Alfred wasn't opposed to quitting. In the months after Bruce's parents died he'd threatened more than once to quit. Mostly so he could become Bruce's full time carer without the employer employee barrier between them. Bruce also knew that money wasn't an indicator for him to stay. With the money Alfred got from Bruce's family it was more than enough for him to live the rest of his life extremely comfortably somewhere else.

Bruce had honestly, when he first saw the El's again, never thought Alfred would have stayed with them after he'd ran off. He supposed now, with the lengths Jor would go to keep his family's secret that maybe Alfred hadn't ever had a choice in the matter. That still didn't mean the man would confess to something he hadn't done. Alfred wasn't weak willed, he would say something if he knew it was wrong.

This wasn't right.

Kal appeared before him, crouching so they were eye level. "Bruce, I know that things were bad before I left, and I know you didn't mean them. I knew it when I was listening to you, I just couldn't get past the hurt to see it. You were scared and I wasn't there for you. But I promise, when you come home nothing's going to happen to you."

"When I come home," Bruce repeated.

"Yeah." Kal got up, searching the room. "Actually, we'd better hurry. Grab your things, we'll sort things out when you're safe." This situation was getting worse and worse. There was a reason he hated not knowing things, now being the perfect example of how little he could do without all the variables. "Bruce."

"No," he said. "I'm not going anywhere, and we're talking now. What exactly did Jor tell you happened to me?"

Kal grumbled, his head cocking slightly until whoever he'd been keeping an ear on passed. After, he perched himself next to Bruce, his eyes still flicking to the door. "Only because I know how stubborn you can be," he huffed, his words rushed when he spoke next. "I went to space, but I don't feel comfortable leaving my family without some kind of protection so I had Bar- the Flash, look in on them. It's not the first time I've done it before you ask. Last time I had Wonder Woman do it. I would've had her do it this time as well but she was needed on the mission with us. Anyway, he comes by every few days and gives me a report, only the third report I got he said you were in the hospital. I wanted to come back Bruce, I really did, but I was needed there. By the time I got back you were gone. Father said that you hadn't eaten when you were in the cell, and you took ill when he let you out so he took you to the hospital. The Flash promised to keep watch. But, when he woke he said you'd gone and that it looked like you'd been taken because they had tried to keep quiet while removing you. Father suspected a ransom would come. I didn't want to wait so I went looking for you. I swear, I would have come for you sooner but you have no idea how quiet you are. Now can we go. I want to get you back home before they hurt you again."

He batted off Kal's hands when they reached for him. "Don't touch me."

"Bruce-" He stopped reaching, looking Bruce over. "Bruce, these people are evil. I've been watching them for days trying to find you. They're killers."

"They're honest," Bruce countered. He could barely believe the lies Jor had fed Kal. Ill, he'd been taken to the hospital because he was ill? No, he could believe it.

"Bruce, they're bad. They're strangers who've hurt you. I don't know what they've done but you have to fight it. I know you believe me."

"Of course I believe you."

Kal breathed a sigh of relief. "Then let's go."

He batted Kal off again. "Kal, I'm not going anywhere."

"Bruce-"

"For the first time in your life Kal, I want you to think for yourself," Bruce snapped, moving up the bed so Kal would have to reach for him. It was only a few feet, but it was enough of a stance to Kal that Bruce wasn't going to go quietly if he carried on like he was. "Look around you. Really look. I want you to think about what you're seeing. Use that brain of yours. Does it look like I'm here against my will?"

Kal started to speak, his mouth closing when he saw the seriousness in Bruce's eyes. He sighed, looking around like he was humouring Bruce before saying. "No. But that doesn't mean anything. These people don't need to put you in a dungeon Bruce, they don't need guards. This place is a labyrinth. You're more likely to die from starvation from trying to escape than successfully making it to the exit points. And before you say anything it makes more sense to make you comfortable and alive than to ransom off a dead body. I've seen more than one of these situations play out Bruce. Just because you're comfortable doesn't mean you're any less a prisoner."

He wanted to laugh, he could feel the hysterics building up in his gut. He wanted to scream those words right back at Kal and tell him that he was a prisoner back home. That here, he was actually free. Not only to be himself without judgement, but to move, to go places, he wasn't always in fear that at any moment he would be sent back to a cell. He should have, knowing where he was, but Ra's didn't strike him as the type to needlessly throw people in cells. If Bruce did step out of line, he was sure he would be given the chance to prove himself worthy of life or struck down where he stood.

He didn't laugh. It wasn't Kal's fault he had a skewed version of the world. Instead, he tried again. "You're still not looking properly." He arched his neck, showing off the jagged pink line that still hurt sometimes when Bruce twisted a certain way. "This is the reason I went into the hospital Kal."

Red burned across those blue eyes for a second before Kal really did touch him. Bruce let him. He let him see it, run his fingers over it again and again. "They hurt you."

He slapped Kal's fingers. "Seriously? The only conclusion you can come up with is that they hurt me? No one else?"

"Bruce-"

"No Kal. Why the hell would they jab me in the neck only to kidnap me later? No, how would they get into the manor in the first place? With two kryptonians around it should be an impossible feat."

"Not that impossible," Kal muttered. "You snuck in without us knowing. And they probably wanted to move you to an easier location to take you."

Bruce actually groaned this time, his brain hurting for Kal that he refused to see what was right in front of him. He arched his neck again. "Look, see this? See the angle? The way it went in, how deep it lodged? They didn't do this Kal. I hadn't even met them yet. I did this to myself."

Kal looked at the wound again, Bruce beginning to worry when he didn't blink once. Slowly, his head started shaking. "No. No. You didn't do that to yourself. They just made you think you did. It's what they do."

"I did this!" Bruce insisted. "I did it. Not them. Not anyone else. Me. I took a shard and drove it into my neck knowing full well I could have killed myself."

"What. No… why?"

"Because you'd locked me up!" He took a breath, knowing now wasn't the time to shout. "You left me in there with your father. Do you know what he did to me? Of course you don't because you don't believe me. You never wanted to see your father as the bad guy."

"You were ill. Father took you to the hospital to get better," Kal said, his eyes never leaving Bruce's neck.

"I stuck a shard into my neck," Bruce repeated. "I did it, knowing I could have died because I didn't want to be your family's prisoner anymore."

"He let you out," Kal was just repeating words now. Phrases he must have heard a thousand times when he'd asked his parents again and again just what had happened to Bruce.

"He kept me in there the whole time you were away. He admitted to me that the kryptonite was his own doing."

"Alfred-"

"Why would Alfred give me kryptonite Kal. Think about it. He knew that was what got me in trouble in the first place. He never would have chanced me being locked up again. Besides, he cares for you. He wouldn't have given me something to make you suffer."

"He admitted to it." Hollow words, that was all they were now.

"Did he? Or were those your father's words coming out of his mouth. Are you telling me that you know for a fact Alfred was the one who planted it? Face it, you haven't got a clue what happened while you were away."

Kal sprang up backing away like Bruce was a piece of kryptonite himself. "So what? My father planted it. You tried to kill yourself. I'm just supposed to believe this is the truth?"

"It is the truth."

"Or their version of it," Kal rounded. Bruce wanted to scream. They were going around in circles. He could see it, Kal still listening out for anyone walking past. "I can smell the chemicals on you Bruce. They're faint, but this whole place stinks of it. They've been drugging you. Do you even know yourself what happened or are you just repeating what they tell you to say?"

He was done with this. "Believe what you like. Please leave."

He was hauled into Kal's arms almost as soon as he was done speaking. He was aware enough to twist out of Kal's hold, the only reason he knew he was able to because Kal hadn't been expecting the move. That didn't stop him from trying again, so Bruce did the only thing he could do and screamed for help.

"Intruder!"

Bruce honestly didn't know how they got into the room. He had a feeling they may have been there for longer than a few minutes, sneaking in while the two of them were otherwise occupied. But they were there, and before Bruce had finished screeching they had Kal restrained. Really restrained.

Ra's must have done some kind of research, or made some connections. Or, as Bruce would later wonder, he may have just heard someone say that Superman was sneaking around, since Kal was in his superhero gear. Regardless, he knew Kal was in the League and had Kryptonite waiting at the ready.

Bruce felt another scream trap itself in his throat as he watched they lead Kal off. Last time he'd seen Kal like that he'd been trapped in a cell. Before that he'd been trapped in a cell too. His blood started pounding in his ears, his limbs seizing as he waited for Jor to come get him.

But he wasn't coming. Jor was all the way back in Gotham. Just because Kal was here didn't mean Jor was. So Bruce slowly started to calm down, at least enough that he could follow the assassins as they took Kal down to a cell that looked like it had been carved specifically for him.

There were bolts on the wall laced in glowing green, the manacles Kal was tied to not giving him enough room to get the strength back to break free from the kryptonite's range. It was devoid of light, no windows or doors save for the one they entered through. There would be no way for Kal to gain access from even a glimpse of the sun.

It was scary how good it was to keep Kal contained.

Bruce stayed long enough to watch them chain Kal up, before orders were sent from high up that no one was to have contact with the prisoner.

Bruce went with the others to the main chamber. For once, everyone was assembled, lining up in circle after circle before Ra's. He didn't keep them long. All he had to say was that business went about as normal. Superman was a prisoner just like any of the others they had kept, and, therefore, they weren't to spare him any exceptions because of his superhero status.

He lasted until the end of the next day.

After Bruce finished wiping the last of the mountain cat guts from his hands, and after he'd sent Jason back to his room on a full stomach he defied Ra's wishes and went down to the lower cells.

It was more than just guilt that made him go down there. All day he couldn't concentrate without thinking of Kal below his feet. He couldn't help wondering if this was what Kal felt when he'd been in the manor, Bruce just metres below him and helpless to do anything but know he was near.

It was Kal's own fault, he'd told himself at first. Kal's fault he had come here. His fault that he hadn't been keeping a better ear on the people in the mountain. But it was Bruce that was the reason he was here at all.

Still, that didn't mean Ra's hadn't anticipated Kal's arrival. The kryptonite in the cells and the carefulness this whole operation had been delivered proved that the League had either ran into Kal before or they were prepared to run into him at some point. Nothing to do with Bruce.

But the guilt ate and ate at him until he actually acknowledged that he had some part to play in Kal's capture.

After that, it was the all encompassing fear that stole over him which made him go down to Kal. It wouldn't be long before Jor was here, following after his son.

He would have been expecting Kal home soon. Either, with Bruce, and waiting to contain him again as soon as they returned- Bruce had good reason to believe it would be for his own benefit that Jor would argue Bruce needed to be exiled again. He was unstable after all. Or, Jor would be wondering why Kal was taking so long trying to persuade someone who doesn't want to go home.

He would probably arrive in the spirit of helping, telling Kal he was here to bring Bruce home, that Kal had done a good job of finding Bruce where he had failed. Bruce thought either one of two things would have happened in that case.

Jor would get rid of Bruce on the spot, claiming he was finally too far gone to reach. Or he would wait, and pounce in a way that would make it seem like an accident.

Bruce knew his life was over in any of these scenarios. Where Kal had the humanity to spare a life, Jor had been forced to play nice too long. He wouldn't hesitate over taking a life. The only reason he had done so before now was because of Kal.

This place, these people, what Bruce had done, he'd effectively given himself a death sentence.

Or, he had.

None of those things could come to pass now. Kal was no longer in Bruce's room, he was tied up and awaiting judgement from Ra's. This was both good and bad depending on what angle it played out.

Bruce drew up to Kal's cell, lifting himself on his toes to peek through the high iron bars. The door was unlocked, the whole league knew it was. Why bother locking a door, when, if Kal got out of his restraints he would be able to simply walk through it unharmed? Right now, the door was merely a symbol of imprisonment, and a sign for the league to keep out unless they had permission.

Bruce could just make out Kal's head. It was slumped on his chest, his arms limply by his side as the green kryptonite glowed and glowed around him. He was awake from the looks of things, his breath coming in rapid pants and face too close to his chest to be reminiscent of sleep.

If Jor found Kal like this he would be beyond murderous. Ra's would have no league in seconds, Jor either tearing this place and its people apart to get to Kal, or just obliterating it all with one look from his heat vision.

That's if he came in knowing where his son was. Ra's had at least some smarts to keep Kal locked deep within the mountain. While Jor would be able to see or hear his son, unless he wanted to chance kryptonite exposure himself he would be forced to navigate the halls when he came in. If there was one thing super hearing hated it was an echo system. It turned out it wasn't that easy to figure out where the first voice was coming from. Not when hundreds of others were drowning it out. Then there was Bruce. When he'd been a child he'd discovered even more ways to throw the El's off his scent.

He'd studied for hours when he was younger to learn how to throw his voice. He'd went to see Arnold Wesker's show at least fifty times to try and discover the art of giving something else a voice. He wasn't as good as he had wanted to be, but the talent he'd had as a child was enough to ward off the El's if he was tricked into answering them.

Then there were the stones. Rocks like these, like the ones in the caves back at the manor, seemed to absorb sound. Heartbeats were trickier to detect, breathing near impossible if he stayed close to the ground or walls. It was why Kal had a hard time finding him. It would also be a reason Jor just wouldn't burst in here.

Kal jerked his head, his whole body twisting in one solid move as he tried to jerk away from the wall. He ended up on the floor, his face burrowing down and arms bent at an angle that would soon grow painful.

Bruce watched him squirm for a bit, before his body got the best of him and he found himself opening the door. He was going to catch hell for this.

He leaned down to try help Kal up. Only, it turned out he wasn't as drained as he appeared. As soon as Bruce made contact Kal was flinging his fist back and hitting Bruce with enough strength to send him flying half way across the room. Bruce rolled with it, landing on his butt before he could make it further and hit the wall.

"You have to stop hitting me," Bruce hissed, hauling himself up.

Kal's head whipped, his eyes widening in fear before a laugh broke out of his chest. "Of course, of course they sent you." He rolled onto his back, one of his arms getting more twisted as he did so. Kal breathed deeply for a few seconds before lifting himself up to ask, "Are you alright?"

Bruce didn't deem that with an answer. Both because the bruise blossoming on his cheek was somewhat of an answer, and the fact that Kal still thought Bruce was being held against his will here. He could read it in his eyes, the way he was checking Bruce for any wounds not made by himself. He probably thought Bruce was here to try and spring him, or worse, try and use a friendly face to gather information. Kal didn't seem too disheartened to see him however, so Bruce wasn't inclined to run back to the rest of the league right away. Truthfully, Kal didn't seem all that bothered at all. Apart from the kryptonite being a problem, he wasn't at all worried that he was locked in here. He didn't panic, or beg, or any of the usual signs that would show the beginnings of fear.

"Has anyone came to see you?" he asked. This was a safer route, one that wouldn't lead to outright arguing any time soon.

Kal shook his head. "No one but you. I think they're trying to isolate me. Scare me a bit before they try anything."

Not likely. In any other situation that would be true. But Kal was here because he was a trespasser, not because he had any information.

"Does your father know you're here?" Bruce heard himself say before he could go down another safe route.

Strangely, Kal didn't answer right away. Ice cold fear struck down the back of Bruce's neck. What if Jor was already here? But, eventually, Kal shook his head. "He was busy back home. I was going to tell him when I brought you back."

"Busy?" What could possibly be more pressing than Bruce?

Not that he thought the world revolved around him, but Bruce thought because of the effort Jor had went to keep Bruce contained he would be a bit obsessed with getting him back under control now he was out.

"It's not important," Kal brushed off. "What is important is getting you out of here." He shuffled closer slightly, whispering like the league had things like cameras on its walls. "I think if you found something with a firm base you could pry off the bolts."

"No."

Kal huffed, his brow furrowing slightly, but looking like he didn't want to look annoyed at Bruce. He was trying to play nice, still believing Bruce had been brainwashed. "Bruce, if I get out of here, I can help you."

"No."

He resembled Jor more and more as he started to get frustrated. They had the same furious tick in their jaw, like they were trying to swallow something that tasted foul. "Bruce, these people are going to hurt you. They kidnapped you."

"How much?" Bruce asked.

"What?"

He was curious now, more curious than guilty as he sat not far from where Kal was tied up. "How much did they ransom me for?"

The furrow deepened disappearing for only a moment before it was back full force. "Does it matter?"

"You don't know, do you?"

"I told you, I left before the ransom came," Kal said.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "No, you said you started searching before the ransom came. You must have went home to check in every now and then."

Kal shrugged as best he could with his arms twisted. "Maybe. But, father didn't mention a ransom."

Bruce nodded, thinking that if he had made the kidnapping rumour up he would have at least made it believable. At least a fake ransom note would have been better than nothing. He could see Kal starting to question it too, before he shook it off, insisting that it had been a kidnapping. "Flash saw what they did, he swore they got past him somehow."

"He was asleep and I didn't take the monitors off until I got to the door. Anyone with sense would know they would start beeping the moment they were disconnected. Escaping wasn't hard Kal, even if he was a speedster, there are ways of hiding in a hospital that would make him overlook me."

"He-"

"Snores," Bruce finished before Kal could start with reasons for why Bruce could have been fed this information. "I didn't even know it was the Flash at first, he was in his civilian gear. The only way I found out was because he twitches sometimes at superspeed in his sleep. If the league had broken in they wouldn't have bothered with that minute detail. I noticed it because he was a barrier between myself and freedom. You spend time with him Kal, you know I'm telling the truth."

Kal slumped at the information, his head hitting the ground with a worrying thump. He sat there for a few minutes, taking in everything Bruce had said. He still didn't want to believe it, but for cooperation's sake he was willing to consider it as he turned to face Bruce again. "They're murderers."

"I know."

"Why would you come to them?"

"I didn't mean to at first. I just wanted to be away from the manor. But, when circumstances provide you with the means to better yourself, you would be a fool not to take it."

A hysteric laugh bubbled out of Kal's mouth. "So, you're training to be an assassin. You going to kill me Bruce?"

He hesitated before answering, "No. I don't want you dead Kal." He didn't know before now that he wouldn't kill Kal. It had always niggled at the back of his mind. Where would Kal fall into all this should he try and stop Bruce? Would Bruce have the strength to kill Kal even? Turns out, no, he didn't. "But if you get in my way I will contain you. I'm getting stronger, and I don't mean physically. If you hinder my plans I will find a way to strip you of your powers and lock you up until I've finished."

Silence reigned between them as Kal read the sincerity in Bruce's words. "You know, I always found it was a failing in the villain when they revealed their plans prematurely."

"I've not revealed anything," Bruce pointed out. "I've told you nothing because I have nothing and you know that. That surprise hiding behind humour is not because you think I'm a threat. You still think they've kidnapped me, that they're telling me to reveal all of this to you. You'll come to know better."

Bruce picked himself up, coming closer so he could help Kal sit up. Kal's strength was fading the longer he was exposed, the grip he had on Bruce no tighter than that of any other man his build. It was easy to cast off, and to resist the other grabs to keep Bruce near.

"Whatever's keeping Jor in Gotham must be important," Bruce tried again. Something more was at work here. It was telling from the way Kal actively avoided his eyes when the topic was brought up. Yet, despite all this he didn't look too bothered by his continuous stay in here.

When Bruce got no reply, he walked out of Kal's cell. One good thing came of his visit there, Bruce knowing that, for the time being, Jor wouldn't be bursting down their door.

Training was easier to concentrate on. Bruce didn't get hit nearly as much as he did the day before. Jason was in a better mood because of it, the boy cheering Bruce on when he managed to land his first real hit on their instructor. Of course, the man beat up Bruce twice as hard because of this, but Bruce counted that as a victory too. If they were going harder on him it just meant that he was improving.

Three days they trained like usual. No one, save Jason who was as curious as anything about Superman being kept captive below them, talked about Kal. There were no mentions of a hearing, or someone bringing him food. There was nothing.

Then, on the fourth day, they were called into the main chamber. They all assembled in their practiced circles, Bruce learning the more they did this that people were lined up in order of rank and seniority. It was basically like being at a dojo.

Bruce, therefore, was near the back, with Jason last simply because Bruce exceeded him in age. He had a decent view from where he was stood. It was near the exit to the main body of the mountain, and since everyone stood far enough from each other to accommodate weapons and a respectful stance, there was enough room for him to have a clear shot at where Ra's stood in the middle of them all.

He wasn't dressed the same as them today. Instead, he had armour on that looked to be at least three hundred years old. There were battle scars and missing chinks all over, telling of stories that Bruce had to wonder about. Yet it was pristine in its wear. Armour truly fit for a king, and serving one just as well as it should.

The whole room was silent. Not even breathing could be picked up from the beings in front of him. Bruce felt loud just being in the same room as them, and did his best to try and blend in.

There were two gaps in either corners of the room. At first glance, they could just be ways for Ra's to make a quick exit since both were near an archway. But Bruce noted the precise space between each assassin on either side. It was enough for one person between them, which meant that two of them were missing from the room.

Sure enough, after they had been stood there for a good five minutes, the sound of dragging could be heard from one of the arches. The two missing assassins appeared, Kal dragged in glowing green cuffs between them. He was set, surprisingly, gentle on the ground before they left, regardless, the support they gave Kal gone, he crashed to the rough stone like they had just flung him.

"Trespasser." The word rang out across the room, an accusation and a chance for Kal to deny it all in that one word.

"Kidnapper," Kal spat back.

"For a man who spends his days saving the world you know very little about it," Ra's said.

"I know enough. I know you took Bruce. I had a right to come get him back."

An unspoken gesture had the assassins in front of Bruce parting, the signal clear for him to move forward. He took his place next to Ra's, wondering if he was being disrespectful by not meeting his eyes but figuring he would be forgiven. The bigger enemy here was Kal after all.

"Is what he speaks true?"

"No," Bruce said. Kal huffed against the floor, his tone still suggesting he didn't believe it. "I came of my own free will to seek your guidance. I am grateful to you for all you have done."

Ra's nodded, Bruce heading back to his spot next to Jason. "My people do not kidnap. If we have a disagreement we settle it honourably. What you are suggesting goes against the League and my own moral code." He knelt before Kal, "It is not I who have committed any wrong doing here." Ra's stood up again, addressing the rest of the room. "The punishment for trespassing is death. How your death will come about can be of one of two ways. You can appeal, and be warned when I tell you your appeal will be fair in all ways. Or you can accept your guilt and the sword that will carry your freedom to the next world."

For someone facing death Kal was tremendously composed. He picked himself up, head held as high as it could get and spat near Ra's feet. "I choose neither. I'm not guilty, and you're not going to do anything to me."

Something about his words sent Ra's stepping back, his head whipping as if searching for something. "Intruders," He snapped, the league coming to life and disappearing before he'd finished.

Bruce and Jason were the only two who remained, not quick enough or in the know what to do when someone broke in. Or even why they were breaking in. Ra's had no mind for them, turning to Kal, and drawing his sword to hold it poised over Kal's shoulder. "You had better hope your friends are smart enough to turn around and leave."

Kal just smiled.

"Go back to your rooms, both of you. I will send someone to fetch you when the intruders have been dealt with," Ra's ordered.

Bruce did, hurrying Jason along.

Ra's had said friends. Jor was here. He was here in the League. As soon as he got Kal back he would be coming for Bruce.

They turned onto the hallway that split into Bruce and Jason's rooms. This would be the first place they would look, Bruce thought, and continued walking the hall as another plan came to mind. He wouldn't be taken, not again. He wasn't going back to that place until he had the means to eradicate Jor once and for all.

He wasn't even close right now.

Surprisingly, Jason was still following behind, skipping a few steps if Bruce pulled too far in front of him. "Ra's said to wait in our rooms."

"They'll find us there."

Jason didn't argue as they took a set of stairs into the lower halls.

Bruce remembered the way he'd taken four days ago, the right here and the left just up ahead. The door was already open when he slipped into Kal's previous cell.

Jor wouldn't come here. There was still kryptonite in the walls. Not to mention Jor was higher up in the mountain. His first priority would be getting Kal back to full strength. That meant taking him out and away from the kryptonite until his powers returned. Hopefully, the threat of more exposure would keep Jor from coming in here.

He repeated that again and again just as something green embedded in his neck.

The last thing he remembered before his mind went hazy was seeing Oliver Queen's face. He was around ten and crouched over Bruce because he'd stupidly dared Bruce to climb one of the trees in the gardens.

But that was years ago.


	11. Chapter 11

There was screaming.

For a moment, he thought it was himself. It wouldn't be that hard to think it was him. Too many times, mostly recently, had he found himself making that same gut wrenching noise. One that was nothing. It was devoid of emotion, of a reason. At first, it might have started out with one, frustration or anger being the most common reason. But after a while it was just noise. Some way to be heard to people that were always going to ignore you.

But, it wasn't Bruce. While he didn't have full control over his body just yet, he was aware enough to be able to sense that his mouth was shut. Slack, sure, and aching from where he'd obviously hit the ground. But shut.

The screaming died down after a while. Either that or it faded to somewhere else. Bruce couldn't tell. As it was, he was putting all his focus into moving. It was difficult for a while. His limbs were sluggish in a way that spoke of a chemical compound. While his mind was recovering the more conscious he became, the drug still maintained his body's level of lucidity.

Minutes or hours passed before he gained control over his eyes, and when he did, he didn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed. On the one hand, he could see where he was. It was always a good thing to be able to take in his surroundings. It meant he got a better layout of the land, and was able to come up with escape plans without anyone becoming any of the wiser. On the other hand, he couldn't move his head. It was all well and good being able to see, but when the ceiling above him offered only so much information he was starting to wish that eyesight came with whole head control instead of this piece by piece situation.

The good thing was, he wasn't back at the manor. Bruce had been in every single one of the rooms back home. He'd memorised their layout, their colours and their hiding places in his long stay there and none of them, not one, had a ceiling like the one he was looking at.

Unfortunately, neither did the league. Unless they had some secret facility Bruce was unaware of in their stone mountain that meant that Bruce wasn't there either.

Frustration took over for a moment, filling his mind with curses as he thought of all the hard work he'd put into getting there, all the opportunities he'd been presented with that were now out of his reach. This universe hated him. Really, truly hated him, he knew that now.

If he'd had control over his fists he was sure he would have hit something. As it was, all he could do was lie there and stare up at the ceiling.

Eventually, if only to pass the time, he tried to figure out where he was. The League had been under attack. Bruce had fled to the cells in case Kal came looking for him in his room. There had been someone in there, someone who was probably expecting to find Kal. That meant, they'd had some kind of GPS on him. Or, they had someone just scour the cells in case Kal was locked up.

It was interesting that Jor and Lara weren't the ones doing the rescuing. Of that Bruce had no doubt. If they had been, he was sure he would have been staring up at the ceiling to his cell under the manor. So, that left Kal's little superhero friends. Ra's hadn't seemed too concerned with their arrival, no matter how much the surprise irked him. But, that wasn't to say they would have left the league empty handed. Defeated, sure, but empty handed, they could probably have gotten away with a few things if they were really determined.

Like Bruce.

Damn.

He stared at the ceiling above him. It was plain, no decoration or vents to speak of. There was a beeping to his left that spoke of some kind of medical equipment, but the wires leaking out of his body were sloppy and fewer had Bruce been taken to a hospital. The bed, at least, was soft, really soft in fact, which was when Bruce remembered that weird vision he'd had before he'd been knocked out.

Oliver. Great.

It took a while. Longer than he wanted really, before feeling came back into his arms, then his midriff, before finally he could sit himself up.

He was in a bed, like he thought. The room, like the ceiling was as plain as it could be. There was medical equipment in here, but not to the point where Bruce worried he truly was in a hospital. Really, it was like someone, had got the necessities, shoved them into a room and left it at that. There was no effort to make it friendlier, just plain white walls and a plain plastic bed.

The heart monitor next to him beeped a steady stream. Bruce was tempted to unhook it, to meet his captors straight away, but he didn't.

Instead, he swung his legs around, careful of the wires attached to his body, and gently prised open the curtain surrounding his bed. The room was long, reminiscent of a hospital wing with its bed scattered here and there, each sectioned off with privacy curtains. They were all stockpiled with the basics too, a heart monitor next to each, and a cabinet full of meds just within reach.

Further down, Bruce could make out an operating table, more advanced machinery surrounding it. All in all, something he would expect from a low budged horror film. He was definitely starting to feel like he was in one anyway as the minutes ticked by and he was still all alone.

He couldn't hear anything except the continuous beep of his monitor, the screaming from earlier truly gone now.

He tried walking, his feet holding up steady as he padded towards the door. It was unlocked, but no window to see out of which meant Bruce had to actually poke his head out to get a good look at the place beyond.

He felt his breath leave him as one lingering doubt at the back of his mind was quenched. He wasn't in Arkham. If he were, there would be more medical bays or sterile walls to greet him. Instead, his feet met a lush carpet.

Bruce unhooked himself now he was certain he wasn't going to be put in a strait jacket, cursing that, yet again, he had to yank a drip out of his arm in a less than careful manner. The beeping started going manic as soon as Bruce was free, no doubt attracting anyone within the immediate vicinity that he was either awake and up to mischief or something had drastically gone wrong in their medical care. He paid neither solution no mind, he was with Kal after all- since this definitely wasn't the league either- and monitor or not he would know if Bruce was awake.

There was something to be said about hospital gowns. Not only were they breezy in ways Bruce didn't want to dwell on, but the lack of grip that came with normal clothes meant that it hindered between strangling him from either the front or the back of his neck, depending on how Bruce shifted.

Most uncomfortable.

The hallway, as it turned out, didn't lead to an open room like Bruce had thought. Instead, he passed through three more hallways before anything new appeared. It started with one door, right at the corner, which led into a bathroom of sorts. After that, door after door appeared on either side of him, each one locked but with a very familiar symbol on the front.

Green Lantern.

Green Lantern.

Green Arrow.

The Flash.

Wonder Woman.

Hawkgirl.

He was at the Justice League.

Bruce didn't bother finishing with the corridor. He backtracked to the showers, stripping himself of that horrid gown and tried to scald this horrid dream from his mind.

He'd been close, so close, to getting what he wanted. So close to freedom, or a way to be free. He'd been so close to being himself again, for the first time in a while having a purpose. So close.

He vaguely registered his fists hurting, his head too, and it was only when a familiar red blur was zipping in front of him and forcefully restraining him that the red imprints on the wall made themselves known.

"Okay buddy, I think you need a time out." The voice wasn't Kals, and neither were the arms.

The arms were red, lightning bolts cuffing his forearms. The Flash then.

The hero twisted Bruce around, taking one look at his head and cringing slightly, the grimace turning into a sort of smile as he said, "Kal's going to kill me."

He considered fighting the man off. If nothing else because he wasn't sure what was going on. But somehow, he felt safe with the Flash. He was a hero, human, and, most importantly, was here instead of Jor. So Bruce slumped into the hold, the drug still strong enough in his system that the energy he had excelled was now making him sluggish and slow as the Flash led them carefully back under the spray of the shower.

The man was gentle as he wiped Bruce's hands, telling him to hold them up to stop the bleeding when he was done. It was an awkward position, especially when the Flash turned to his head afterwards. He had to take his gloves off to pick Bruce's hair out of the wound, the pads of his fingers smooth but with indentations here and there Bruce had seen often in his childhood.

The wound must not have been too serious. After checking Bruce's pupils, he didn't look too concerned that something drastic was going to happen. "How are you feeling?" He asked instead, the tone too something Bruce had grown accustomed to once upon a time.

He considered his answer carefully. How was he feeling? Tired, sure, frustrated and angry, most definitely. "Fine," he settled on. "It doesn't even hurt.

The Flash huffed a short laugh. "That's probably the drugs still talking."

Bruce hummed in agreement, knowing his body, even at its worst, wasn't usually this dulled to pain. "Strong stuff."

"Tell me about it. Arrow has to make it special since the League usually has a high tolerance for drugs. Even its newbies." A considering look was sent Bruce's way. "Although, it was weird your toxicology results didn't show any traces of narcotics. Not any recent ones anyway. Kal wasn't too pleased. He had me run it again five times just to be sure."

Bruce held his tongue. He wanted to ask about Kal, but wasn't sure whether he would like the answers. It was better to just content himself with the fact that he was here with a safe hero and turn his mind to other matters, like Kal now knowing the truth about Bruce's state when they had talked. If the Flash could run reliable enough tests that Kal would finally believe Bruce hadn't been on drugs, then he would have to start admitting, or even questioning whether Bruce had indeed been telling the truth about his stay there.

The Flash was looking at him expectantly, probably hoping Bruce would ask where Kal was. He didn't. Instead, he did a little guessing. "Tests huh? You work for the police don't you? Probably CCPD even if you commute to Coast every now and then. No wonder they let you in my room." He had been wondering, briefly, how the Flash in his civilian disguise had managed to persuade the hospital staff to let him sit with Bruce when he'd stabbed himself. The Flash wasn't family, clearly, and if, even by then, they were spinning it to look like an attack there would have been no way the guy ordinarily would have been let into a Bruce's room. Not unless he had connections or was a member of the law enforcement with a convenient story of being involved somehow in the case being built.

It was like looking at a glitch when it came to the Flash. Bruce found it hard to read him, his initial reaction of being sussed out too quick for Bruce to catch. Instead, Bruce was left with the one he saw now, an impressed slackness to his jaw while his eyes roamed anywhere but Bruce's face. "Kal said you were smart." He was smiling again when Bruce blinked.

He didn't like this. It was hard enough to read people ordinarily without superspeed taking away half the hints. Bruce didn't know whether what he was seeing was sincere. The El's certainly never used their speed like this, and for that Bruce was thankful. If they had, he didn't want to think what that kind of life would have been like.

"Wonder what else he told you."

Once again, the change was too quick for Bruce to catch. He was looking down, and then his face was away, eyes wide. "Don't worry. Nothing bad, I swear. He thinks the world of you." The man's face was back close, his fingers scrubbing the blood from Bruce's knuckles again. "Come on, we should get those dressed."

Bruce didn't want to go back to the med bay. Already he was sick of it, but the Flash held strong and towed Bruce until he was back in his murderous gown and watching superspeed bandage his hands.

"Usually we get J'onn to do this, he's the medic out of all of us. But he's out on a mission with Plastic man and G.L. so I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

On an ordinary day, Bruce thought he probably would have liked the Flash. He was a nice man, genuinely nice, who talked about all manner of things he found interesting on his way to Mount Justice today. Even if his audience was less than interested he was happy to fill the silence with little tid bits of knowledge. He was, probably, the safest hero Bruce could have the hope of meeting when he first woke up. If only he would slow down.

It was ultimately that which turned Bruce against him. The drugs were making him disorientated enough without Bruce having to guess and second guess if what he was seeing was the truth. He didn't like not knowing, of not being able to get the upper hand somehow. He didn't like this new disadvantage, and with every jerk that the Flash made that Bruce couldn't follow to the second Bruce grew more and more frustrated. Enough that he ended up lashing out, slamming them against the Flash's chest.

He thought, had the man paid more attention he would have easily avoided the hit. But he didn't, and went down long enough for Bruce to spring to his feet and run out of the med bay.

He didn't stop like last time when he reached the bedrooms. Instead, he tried each and every one of them until one opened under his hands. He knew how to barricade a door, the question of whether it would hold a speedster at bay being put to the test as Bruce pushed a wardrobe in front as fast feet padded past it.

He fell back onto the bed, not caring that he wouldn't be in here long. He just needed some time alone, time to regroup and sweat out the rest of this stupid drug. When he did, he could think properly, he could come up with a plan and a way to get back to Nanda Parbat.

The room swam in and out of focus, the panic easing the longer he lay there.

It turned out, whoever's bedroom this was had an interesting idea of decorating. There was a boyband poster on the wall, each member drawn over in ink with labels naming different superheroes and graffiti making them almost unrecognisable. The drawers near his head had books piled to the brim on top. None of them were of a consistent theme, any and all genres standing out to Bruce as he recognised some of the titles. It was almost like they were trying to learn anything and everything they could get their hands on.

If Bruce hadn't been too busy fending off another sleeping spell he probably would have tried to assign someone to this room. He was sure he could have figured it out given enough time. But the drug was fading, the pain in his hands and head flaring beyond its initial burn and someone was on the other side of the door.

Two someone's actually.

The Flash was back, jabbering away at someone, Bruce was sure he'd heard that other voice before, but it was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate.

"-a head wound too. I think he might be concussed. We should call Kal."

"No." It wasn't Kal, of that Bruce could be certain of now. "He has enough to deal with. Besides, I'm the one who knocked him out. If Kal finds out Bruce went crazy because of it I'm the one who's gonna need help."

"So dramatic," The Flash sighed.

The footsteps stopped. "Which one did you say he was in?"

"That one."

"Damn." The door budged as it was pressed against, the handle turning again and again as it sought more leverage. "Crap, he must have put something in front of it."

"I got it."

Sixteen pin drops later, the door bowed worryingly before being removed altogether. Bruce watched as a familiar blonde head poked its way over the top of the wardrobe, the rest of him following until he was dropping, rather ungracefully, into the room. "You have a lot of explaining to do young man," Green Arrow reprimanded playfully as the Flash dropped alongside him. The speedster had no trouble moving the wardrobe away from the door, the solid oak back in its rightful place in seconds.

"Bite me Queen."

Green Arrow started, his mouth flopping a few times before firming. "I don't know who you're referring to."

God he was obvious." At least change your voice when you talk. It's sad."

"You're sad," Came the predicted response. Oliver was nothing if not a child at heart.

He brushed off his identity reveal rather fast. As soon as the wardrobe was firmly out of the way he was marching over to Bruce and sitting him up.

"You really did a number on yourself."

Bruce sat still through more prodding, he wasn't exactly getting away now there were two of them.

Oliver had grown up since the last time Bruce had seen him. He'd aged sure, but there was an air of maturity behind his childish personality that there wasn't before. He supposed it was kind of fitting that Oliver had become Green Arrow, it suited him. On the one hand, he could play dress up like Robin Hood, a game Bruce had been subjected to more than once when they were thrust together for playdates. On the other, there were knives sticking out of his suit here and there, the suit convenient enough to allow him to stow weapons where suits like the Flash's would have made that impossible.

"Right," Olive decided when he'd finished making Bruce's head worse, those drugs really had faded. "Since you obviously don't like my medical wing, which I spent a lot of money on by the way. And you can't stay here because, well, Diana will probably kill you, you can come sit with the rest of us in the lounge. We're watching Titanic."

"God no," Bruce whined.

Oliver helped him up anyway, telling the Flash to fix Diana's door as he half dragged Bruce the rest of the way through the hall.

The lounge was quite big, seating two more heroes when they stumbled in. Bruce recognised the first from Dicks constant badgering as Wonder Woman. In the flesh, Bruce was a little awed. She was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on, with a regal air to her that would rival Ra's.

The other was Black Canary, someone who Kal had mentioned frequented Gotham from time to time. She made room when Oliver came over, plumping up pillows for Bruce to rest his weary head on.

Titanic was just as awful as he thought it would be. The TV made his eyes sting, his head growing clearer but more painful with each agonising second he sat there. If that wasn't bad enough, the Flash took the space next to Diana, well within Bruce's eyeline, and with the constant glitches he made Bruce found himself more disorientated than he had been waking up.

"I think he's gonna be sick," the Flash warned before he was there with a bucket. Bruce actually wasn't going to, but as soon as the Flash moved his head gave up trying to reign in his body and he gave in. "You are so dead," The Flash grinned at Oliver.

"I know."

Someone ran a hand along his spine, the action sending him vomiting again. He batted them off when he finished, his spine tingling well after they had retracted their hand.

"Hey Bruce, why don't you lie down," Oliver cooed. On a better day, Bruce would have told Oliver to save that tone for the number of bastards he probably had running around. This wasn't a better day, so he went to his back willingly, his eyes closing before they hit the cushions.

He woke to someone stroking his hair. Each time it went in for another touch his scalp tingled like electricity was flowing through it. He hated that feeling. It didn't always happen. In fact, he hadn't felt this overloaded since before he ran away. But, he supposed, with the stress and drugs it was only natural for his body to want to shy away from people for a while. Especially when he could tell from touch just who those fingers belonged to.

They left his hair, playing loosely with a curl. He felt the gentle pull, the twist and release like every strand of hair was his own skin. "Don't," he warned when he felt that hand hovering, waiting for another tussle through.

"Bruce?"

It was easier, this time, to open his eyes. He was still in the lounge, the other heroes relocated to the floor or other chairs. They had perked up, all watching expectantly as Bruce sat himself up.

Kal was back to full health. Colour was back in his cheeks and his hair was just as flawless as usual. There were no marks or bruises that showed a time in the cells. No tears in his clothes or mud on his skin. He was perfect, completely perfect with a smile on his face as he waited for Bruce to say something. Probably thank him.

"How are you feeling?" Soft fingers came to Bruce's forehead, stopped only by Bruce grabbing them, the principle of keeping clear the only thing that truly stopped Kal. He didn't seem too disheartened, taking Bruce's hand instead as he said, "Green Arrow said you slipped on the shower tiles."

Bruce cut a look at Oliver, the man's eyes widening pointedly to keep the lie. Bruce would have been annoyed that he was being forced to keep another secret, but he could see where Oliver was coming from. He was probably in enough trouble for drugging Bruce already without Bruce making it worse by hurting himself on the drugs.

It would be in Oliver's best interest to go along with it. But, really, Bruce should be considering the bigger picture. He had to get back to Nanda Parbat. He had to get away from Kal, or at least make him finally admit to the truth.

He cast another look at the heroes. "Fine," he said. He needed to think of the bigger picture. But not here. Who knew what side these people would take if Bruce started verbally attacking Kal right now.

"Hungry?"

He shrugged, the other heroes outvoting him anyway as they piped up that they wanted pizza.

The Flash wasn't so hard to watch now Kal was around. It could have been that Bruce had his wits back, or just that Kal was enough of a distraction that Bruce didn't dwell too much on the fast-paced man that blurred in the corner of his eye. Still, Bruce was glad to retreat to one of the couch's further in the room when another movie was popped in.

It was interesting to watch them. Kal tried to stay near Bruce, making sure he ate and fended off the other heroes when they came for scraps. But eventually even he couldn't resist them for long. He ended up lying in the middle of the floor, still mostly near Bruce but able to call more easily to the others as they laughed and joked.

These people, they were more than just acquaintances that come together to save the world, they genuinely liked each other. Sure, there were cliques, some of them enjoying the company of others more, but they were all jovial with each other. When a story was told about an exploit of the J.L. they were all there to share their own tid bits or tale about that day. Comradery was high, and for the first time Bruce was witnessing a side of Kal that was only hinted at before. The side that was without Bruce, without Jor and Lara. He was seeing the Kal that had lost his crutch on the human world and had to adapt. The Kal that became human enough to woo Lois Lane, to make friends with these people. He was witnessing a Kal that, were circumstances different, Bruce probably would have liked to get to know.

But circumstances are what they were, and Bruce knew, even if he didn't want to admit it, that this wasn't the Kal he knew. When push came to shove this wouldn't be that Kal that came to his rescue. Bruce would be left with the Kal that lived under Jor's thumb, that wanted, more than anything, for things to be good and right between those he loved, even if he had to force himself to ignore things that he shouldn't.

Kal perked up just as the last of the pizza was tossed to the side. "Oh, he's awake."

The atmosphere dropped, every hero looking at the other as they all, almost simultaneously, said, "I'm not going."

Kal rolled his eyes, "I wasn't asking you to go. See if you can find something to eat for him." He was gone in a blink, almost as soon as his form was gone a screaming started.

The same screaming, in fact, that Bruce remembered hearing as he woke the first time. Now that he was more aware, he recognised that tone. It was higher than usual, but the age allowed it easily. Bruce was about to get up just as Kal came strolling into the lounge with Jason on his hip. Kal looked like having a screaming kid fighting him off was a natural everyday occurrence. Jason, on the other hand, got more frantic the longer Kal held tight to him.

Something quiet was said, Jason's head whipping around until he spotted Bruce. He wasted no time making his want known as he struggled even harder to get away from Kal. Thankfully, Kal let Jason go before the boy could hurt himself, watching as Jason ran to Bruce, the boy latching onto him like a leech.

"Jay. What are you doing here?"

Quiet gurgling was made, Jason's voice too hoarse to make sense any time soon. Oliver was glad to fill Bruce in where Jason failed, telling him that the boy had been on attack mode the moment Bruce fell. There was a nice bruise on Oliver's knee where Jason had tried to break his leg. Diana had been on hand to restrain Jason before any crucial damage could be made on either party. They were going to leave him, only, when they tried moving Bruce Jason had screamed and hit until he could cling onto Bruce. Really, they had no choice.

If Bruce had been anything except shocked right now he would have found it hilarious that the Justice League were made to negotiate with a seven-year-old.

Jason never left his side. The Justice League tried approaching him now he wasn't constantly screaming. They probably thought their status would garner them some awe. With Dick, that probably would have worked. Jason on the other hand was wary of anyone and everyone. He only ate when Bruce had picked at it first, his stay at the League of Shadows teaching him that he should always be wary when given anything from someone else. He didn't talk to the others, only to Bruce, and only then it was little things a seven year old found fascinating, like the bed he was sleeping in before he came to Bruce. He shied away when Kal came over, outright glaring if Bruce was quite honest when it looked like Kal wasn't moving away like the others did.

"So, your name is Jason," Kal tried. "That's a nice name."

Jason glared a little harder, shuffling slightly back further and further until he was breaching Bruce's lap. It was only when he was safely seated that he puffed up, trying to look tough as he kept quiet.

Kal turned to Bruce. "So how do you two know each other then?"

He seemed a little annoyed if Bruce had to put a name to it when Bruce said something about Jason deciding to tag along to the League with him. At first, Bruce thought it was about bringing a child along on this dangerous quest. Or even that Bruce was still sticking to his story that he went willingly. Yet, it turned out it was none of those things. "I see you didn't give a second thought to Dick then."

If Jason hadn't been there Bruce didn't know what he would have done. Kal thought, he actually thought Bruce had replaced Dick. That Dick meant so little to him that he had went out and bought himself a new kid now he couldn't get his last one. It was written on his face, the betrayal, the accusation. It made Bruce sick.

"I love that boy," Bruce hissed, biting his tongue so he wouldn't say more. Not here, not in front of the others.

It was enough for Kal. His expressions shifted, like he couldn't believe himself for thinking such a thing. Of course Bruce loved Dick, he'd known him since he was in his mother's womb, kicking her about like his own trampoline. He'd been there for his first steps, for his first words. He'd been there on his good days and bad days. He was, at times, the only thing that made living in that manor possible. Dick was his world, and the sole reason Bruce had set out on his mission to the League.

Maybe once, Bruce had thought the same as Kal. At the League, recovering from fear toxin he had thought the same that maybe he was trying to substitute Dick for Jason. It was entirely plausible. But, Bruce didn't love Jason like he loved Dick. He didn't feel as worried about him when he left him alone. Younger as he was, Jason was smart, he knew the adult world better than most adults. Bruce admired Jason, and loved him, but it wasn't the same as it was for Dick. It never would be, and that wasn't a bad thing. He couldn't love two people the same way, and neither of them made the other inferior.

He turned away from any further conversation Kal tried to initiate, to which the kryptonian brushed off and went to seek out his friends again. He could see Kal glancing over every chance he could however, the man listening in as Bruce assured Jason they weren't going to be maimed or hurt while they were here. The boy didn't exactly believe Bruce, and well, he could see why, but Bruce kept telling him anyway.

They sat through three movies, four rounds of popcorn and a few less than child friendly stories before Jason decided he wanted another nap and promptly fell asleep over Bruce.

As soon as he was out it was like a switch and the J.L. were back to their uninhibited cheery selves, asking Bruce if he wanted to put Jason in one of the rooms so they could have a rather lewd game of truth or dare.

"Pass." But he did take them up on their offer for a bed. He was rather tired himself, what with all the kidnappings and drugging going on.

Oliver kindly offered his own room, unlocking the room and showing Bruce where he kept his spare clothes. It was less than tidy, and Bruce neatly pocketed a few small knives when Oliver left, but it had a bed that wasn't plastic.

Jason was still snoring when Bruce got back from the bathroom. Bruce had insisted that Jason stay with him, one because he didn't trust Kal not to pull a stunt like Jor and keep the boy as some kind of leverage. Two, because, well, now he knew the boy was here he was positive that Jason wouldn't like waking up alone. Not here, surrounded by strange men and women. Even if they were heroes Jason didn't trust them and Bruce didn't want him scared.

He thought it was rather interesting that Jason was fine staying alone with a group of assassins, but when it came to the J.L. he wanted nothing to do with them. Bruce got it, kind of. He didn't have the same fear instilled in him as Jason did, but even he knew the difference between honour among murdering assassins and people who said they were good but could prove themselves false at any time. More than once Bruce had been betrayed by a face that he thought was friend.

He was turning down the sheets when the knock came. The Flash was at the door, his cowl down and actually slowing down when he moved as he asked to come in. Bruce debated telling him no, if only because Jason was here too, but there was a look on the Flash's face that spoke of urgency. Wondering if they were under attack, although Bruce surely would have heard something, he let the Flash in.

"Something wrong?"

The Flash bit his lip, casting one look at Jason before taking them to the furthest corner of Oliver's room. "You tell me." He looked over Bruce's face, nodding to himself. "Kal's went out, some emergency in Metropolis he had to deal with."

He waited, blinking expectantly at Bruce like he would magically catch on to what he was hinting at. Bruce didn't, and soon enough the Flash grew a bit jittery, casting looks at the door.

"Look, he'll be back soon. Is there anything you want to tell me? You can trust me, I promise."

Strange thing was Bruce actually believed him too. It was more than just a gut feeling, the man had some aura around him that bled trust.

"I still don't know what you mean."

Another look to the door. "I don't want to think bad of him but, you were not comfortable in there. And I mean before Jason came in you were uncomfortable. I mean, you were uncomfortable when you were around us, but, Oliver said that was normal. With Kal though, that was something else. What's going on? You can trust me," he insisted, sensing Bruce's hesitancy.

"I- It's nothing."

That was enough for the Flash. In an instant he was steel standing in front of Bruce. "Has he hurt you? I know his strength can be a problem, and speed- well I know how hard that can be to control. Friction burns, I tell you. But has he? You shrink away from him, I've seen the signs before." He leant in close, "I'm on your side."

"Well…" Bruce remembered the night where Kal had almost crushed his pelvis. It had hurt, yes, but it wasn't intentional. An excuse maybe, but in the general scheme of things that was quite low on his priority list. "Actually…"

"Bruce?"

"Have you met his father?"

The Flash nodded, brow furrowing. "A few times. I always liked Alfred better though. That man knows his way to a speedsters heart. Why? Wait, has he…?" Something on his face must have betrayed him since the Flash sighed long and juddering. "But Kal hasn't?

"Kal's never really been much of a problem."

"That's still not a no," The Flash pointed out. Three quick knocks came before anything more could be said, the Flash frowning over to it before plastering a smile on his face. "Well, I hope you guys will be warm enough tonight. Shout if you need anything." He flitted to the door, "I'll see you tomorrow." The implication to talk more was clear, but not while Kal was about.

It was strange, Bruce thought as he settled under the sheets, he thought for sure the Flash would take Kal's side, maybe even tell him what Bruce had said when he went back out to the rest of the J.L. Yet, the hours dwindled and Kal didn't burst in demanding Bruce explain himself, telling him that he was wrong, like so many times before, about Jor. The Flash was a good man, maybe Bruce could trust him enough to ask for help. Or at least have him distract Kal enough that Bruce could make an escape. He was sure he could make his way back to Nanda Parbat. He'd done it before, he could do it again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter. I wanted more Flash in, but I think I'm gonna save him up for later.

"Are you sure?" The Flash asked.

It was the third time that day.

Last night had been a mistake. One Bruce didn't know how to rectify. He didn't know what it had been, really that had him admitting that something was wrong. He didn't know the Flash, he didn't trust him one bit, and yet, as soon as he'd asked Bruce had corrected him about some of the assumptions he'd made about Bruce and Kal.

Really, thinking back, Bruce should have just said it was a lovers tiff gone wrong. He was sure beyond a doubt that Kal would have told the J.L. about their romantic involvement. Why wouldn't he? At the time, Kal had been on top of the world. He'd been ready to move take Bruce out, show him off to his friends. Had nothing actually gone wrong with the plan, Bruce would bet that he would be on first name basis with these people right now. Either that, or he would have made a grand escape with Dick and the two of them would be happily back performing for Mr Haly.

But, the point remained that Bruce should have just said they'd had a falling out. Admitting that there was something else wrong, he didn't know what was going to become of it.

All morning Bruce had been waiting for Kal to ask him about what he had said. He expected rage, confusion and generally the confrontation they had back at the League to repeat itself. It wasn't that far of a stretch, Kal had super hearing after all, and no matter if the Flash thought Kal wouldn't listen in there was always the chance he would.

Yet, the confrontation never came, and instead, Bruce was bombarded at every opportunity by the Flash. He cornered Bruce as soon as he got up, handing him one of the many plates of poached eggs he had on hand and asked if Bruce would mind having a private talk with him later about the effects of Oliver's drug. It was an okay excuse. Okay enough to get past Kal who appeared like a puppy trailing after its master as soon as he heard Bruce was conscious.

Bruce declined anyway. It wouldn't do for him to be spreading around more trouble than he needed.

The Flash didn't give up however. At lunch, while he was handing over bandages for Kal to change, he asked again if Bruce would mind having a talk with him, this time about Jason and how they could make him feel more comfortable around them. Bruce declined again.

The third time, he was ready to decline again, the no on his lips when Kal beat him to it. "Stop bothering him Flash," He said, hugging Bruce further into his side. "I think Bruce just wants to rest today. You're going to have to wait if you want to talk with him."

Kal's word was like law apparently. The Flash didn't look happy about it, casting suspicious looks to the hand Kal had around Bruce but the rest of the day turned out to be Flash free.

That didn't mean Bruce wasn't still waiting for him. The man probably thought that Kal was speaking for him, that Bruce was declining because Kal was making him. Bruce didn't doubt that sooner or later he would pounce again. This time when Kal wasn't at the base, and where Bruce would have a harder time saying no, now his kryptonian shield was gone.

Or so he thought. Yet, that night, when Bruce was sure the Flash was going to pounce, he went home.

Bruce knew the J.L didn't live at the base. Kal himself didn't, and despite the fact there were bedrooms dedicated to housing these people he knew that nearly all of them probably had a home or job to keep them busy through the day. They didn't always team up, and when they did it was mostly because the world was ending or someone important was dying. Bruce's problem at the League, ordinarily, wouldn't have piqued the J.L's attention. They trusted Kal, after all, and it was Kal's problem anyway. However, thanks to a little contingency plan Kal created, if the J.L didn't hear back from Kal within twenty four hours they were to investigate the League and rescue their comrade.

Kal had went there prepared. More prepared than Bruce gave him credit for. When he heard Kal tell him all this he had the thought that maybe Kal had planned to get kidnapped. The more Bruce thought about it the more credit he gave that idea. The League alone posed problems for Kal, but with his friends and a good distraction, he would be able to grab Bruce amongst the chaos with the League too tied up to retaliate right away.

It was smart, and reminded Bruce once again not to underestimate Kal.

The problem now with the J.L. disbanding back to their ordinary hero lives meant that Bruce was gaining back his privacy, but he was also losing his protection. With it being a J.L mission now and not Kal's they were all responsible for Bruce. Oliver for the drug and its after affects, the others for the care they gave him afterwards. They all waited around long enough for Bruce to be okay before giving him back over to Kal's solo care.

That could mean, in effect, Bruce was being taken from the base. If he was taken, there was only one place left for him to go. Home.

Bruce sat there and watched as member after member said their goodbyes, the only ones remaining Diana and J'onn who had returned some time in the night from his space mission for monitor duty.

Bruce expected to be picked up and carted off right away. He went searching for Jason to try and prolong the procedure, finding the kid carving swear words into Green Arrow's wall. Bruce tried to think of things to do to make them stay here, maybe another injury that had to be tended right away. Or Jason pretending to be too sick to travel. He had fifty scenario's ready when Kal came to find him, Bruce waiting for him to tell them to get their things and hold on tight.

Yet, Kal didn't.

Instead, he passed Bruce some familiar looking pyjamas and bid Jason good night.

Okay, something was going on.

For three days that was their routine. Bruce got up, he did something around the base, usually sparring with Jason, had lunch when Kal brought it in, dinner, and then they would go to sleep without so much as a conversation. Kal would go missing for hours on end sometimes.

It wasn't at a specific time, just one minute he would be there and the next he was flying off. It wasn't an emergency, Bruce could tell the difference between them. He'd seen Kal when he came back from helping someone. He was tired, beaten down, and sometimes there was a hardness to him that spoke of loss, but, almost always there was satisfaction in his eyes. He knew he had tried his best and that was all he could focus on. This, however, this was different. Kal came back more ragged than he did going out. He looked like the world was coming down on him, and the more often he left Bruce to go out, the more Bruce was beginning to think their silence was more on Kal's reluctance to speak than Bruce's.

The fourth day of them being here the Flash was on monitor duty. He came in like a whirlwind, panting about being late and a number of other things that had happened that day. His arms were piled high with pizza's, dropping two off for Bruce and Jason before devouring the rest in a speed Bruce was quite impressed with.

"Kal's out," Bruce said.

"I know," The Flash said around a mouthful. "He'll be back soon though. We have monitor duty together. You know how long he's been out for?"

There was something there, in the way he asked, that told Bruce to answer, "Quite long. He should be back soon." Knowing beyond a doubt had Kal just gone out the Flash would be cornering Bruce into talking about his feelings.

Sure enough, just as the Flash was talking about beeping Kal on the comms, he appeared. He had that sullen look on his face again, one that the Flash picked up on too. Words were spoken too fast for Bruce to catch, a quick hug was shared and then the two of them were delving deeper into the mountain to where the monitor room was.

When he looked, Jason was watching where they left too. There was a small frown on his face, his little hands still clutching his pizza like someone was going to take it off him if he didn't hold on tight enough. "Who's Dick?"

"What?"

Jason turned that small frown on him. "Dick. Who is he?"

That bad feeling crept up again. "He's my brother, why?"

Jason squinted at him, "You don't have a brother."

"Sure I do," he nodded Kal's way. "Some people would argue two."

"No," Jason shook his head. "He's your cousin. Look, I may not have had a newspaper every day of my life but even I know who you are and aren't related to. So, who's Dick?"

Bruce couldn't help huffing out a surprised chuckle, Jason was always full of surprises. "Dick's the kid I helped bring up while I was away all those years." He made sure Jason didn't have any more questions about him. "Now, why are you asking?"

Jason bit his lip, his eyes roving around for the quickest escape. It was a bad tell of Jason's, one he did when he was nervous and usually if he was nervous of what his words or actions would cause someone to do. "I heard Kal mention him the other day. When he was complaining to you." Bruce nodded, he knew about that. The morning afterwards he'd had to sit Jason down and tell him that he wasn't a replacement, suffering through three temper tantrums and a crying bout before either of them calmed down. He was still a little mad at Kal about that. "And then I heard him mention him again when I was coming out of the shower."

"What did he say?"

Jason made that motion again, his body remaining where it was but his eyes already fixated on the nearest door. "Something about a guy called Alfred and how selfish he was. I didn't really catch it 'cause he was mumbling. I only really paid attention because he said Dick's name again."

"Okay," Bruce said slowly, processing what he knew.

"He said it again now. Just near the end. The red guy said it too." Jason made a beeline for the door, Bruce catching him before he got too far.

He forced a smile on his face, questions and answers he didn't want to consider coming to mind as he sat Jason down. Pushing it all to the back of his mind he calmed down, showing Jason that it was alright to talk to him, that he wasn't going to do anything because Jason overheard something he shouldn't.

It took a while and a few more quick escape attempts before Jason was back to his bubbly self, eating pizza and trying to not so subtly inch his way into Bruce's lap.

When they were back to being friends again, Bruce tried to think of something they could do together to pass the time.

Bruce didn't think the J.L. had much experience in child rearing. The most that had been said on the matter when Bruce brought it up was that he had a TV, Netflix and DVD's around here somewhere if Jason got bored. Never once did any of them think that TV was hardly that great of an invention to a seven year old.

Around day one noon time Jason got bored of the TV. He announced it like any other kid would do, chucking the remote down onto a soft surface, collapsing back like the world had ended and letting out the most sorrowful sound he could. "Bored."

Bruce had tried to get the J.L. to reconsider their stance on TV, however, like he said, he didn't think any of them had any experience child rearing. Bruce had tried his best to fill in the hours with something to do. He didn't let Jason slack off in his patterns or his sparring, mainly because he himself didn't want to either. It had been working so far, however, he'd already got Jason to do his set for the day. Any more and he was sure the kid would either rebel or run away to find something else to do with his time.

It wasn't like they had many options either. While the J.L. were meant to be the good guys, they were oddly untrustworthy and secretive. Bruce and Jason were confined to the lounge and living areas of the mountain, any further beyond in either direction was strictly off limits. That wasn't to say Bruce didn't have some idea what lay in here. He knew there was a monitor bank from all the talk of it, and that there was a training area after Oliver and Black Canary had come from there speaking about a rematch. The med bay he'd already seen, and unless they had a dungeon Bruce didn't know about he didn't really see what was so special and secret that they couldn't have a look around.

It seemed kind of unfair. Especially since, even Jor, had let Bruce have free reign of the manor. Sure, it was probably because it was Bruce's home and it was the outside they were really keeping him from, but the point remained that people he deemed dangerous were far more trustworthy of him than the people who proclaimed they weren't.

Jason ended up conning him into a game of kings. Well, Jason was a king, Bruce was an errant knight who Jason got to fight whenever he felt like it. The game changed fifteen times, and the rules Bruce sometimes had a hard time following, but it tired Jason out enough that he was yawning his way through the battle of the couches.

"Not tired," He whined as Bruce picked him up. "You're tired."

"Yes, I am," Bruce agreed.

"So why can't I stay up? I'm not old like you."

He jolted Jason for the name, satisfied when he got a squawk. "You're not old enough, either, to stay up on your own."

"Not fair," He whined, drawing out the r all the way back to Green Arrow's room.

Bruce was going to chuck Jason in and hope it would spark a quick wrestling match that was sure to tire him out, when he passed Diana's room. He remembered, vaguely, his time in there, all the books she had. He was sure Jason liked to think of himself as special and more adult than the average child thanks to his upbringing, but the point remained he was still a kid, and when it came to kids they all had their weaknesses at bedtime.

The door was unlocked, like before, and Bruce promised himself he would return whatever he stole in the morning as he picked out five of the more fantastical books Wonder Woman had in her collection. Jason complained even more about the books, whining like a dying cat as Bruce told him to change and settled himself on the bed.

He let Jason choose, the boy throwing even more of a fit before Bruce realised he probably hadn't been to school for a while. Sure, Gotham said that every kid had a place at one school or another, but really, Bruce knew that wasn't true. He'd seen himself the kids on the street, the ones begging or selling themselves for money. He doubted they only did that as a night job, their days spent in school learning all they could to become a good member of society. No, it was a vicious cycle what those kids were subjected to. They were born into poor families, made to live in a place with no prospects to grow up and have lesser prospects. There was no time for school when they were trying to live day to day.

If Bruce hadn't come along, he was sure Jason would have ended up like those kids on the streets. The ones whose eyes spoke for help while the rest of them begged to be left alone. To be unseen because to the rest of Gotham they were unseen, they were nothing. They were the people who wouldn't ask questions if something shady went down. They were the ones who got their hands dirty.

Bruce could have ended up like that. If it wasn't for his quick thinking and pure luck, he would have definitely ended up like that.

Bruce settled again, picking a book out himself that he thought Jason would like. It was a fantasy book, one with no pictures- to Jason's regret. He spoke slowly, letting Jason crowd in close when curiosity got the best of him. He spelled out some words before saying them, sounded out sentences sometimes twice over until Jason was running his own finger over the words, piping in every now and then when he found one he recognised.

There weren't many that he did, this being an adult fantasy book and all, but with every 'well done' Jason received his confidence boomed until he was taking the book out of Bruce's hands and reading it for himself. Of course, Bruce knew the story he was being told wasn't actually in the book. But, Jason was smart enough to make up quite a good on in its place, one Bruce actually preferred.

The next day, Jason didn't let him return the book. Bruce had to give an apology over breakfast when Wonder Woman came early for her own shift at Mount Justice for going into her room and taking a book. She didn't slam him to the floor, which he counted as a win. Instead, she went in search of Kal who Bruce still hadn't seen since he went to monitor duty the night before.

It was actually a fun day. Kal wasn't there, and the heroes on duty were otherwise occupied which meant that Jason wasn't on edge the whole time. He was nice and relaxed, the book he didn't let Bruce return clutched in both hands as he tried to make out words in the book. Often times, Jason would tug on Bruce's sleeve- more clothes Kal had bought for Bruce and Jason- and ask what this or that word was, repeating it over and over again as he went off to finish the sentence he was reading.

By dinner, Jason was two chapters in and Bruce couldn't have been prouder.

The two of them were working through the beginning of chapter 3 when Wonder Woman found them. It was her turn to bring the food, Greek this time, with something else balancing on top that she said was for Jason.

He was apprehensive about opening it. Bruce didn't want to think about the presents he got before Bruce found him, or when the last time he even got one was. But, eventually, the apprehension left in favour of the enthusiasm all children showed when given a gift.

It was a book. A children's book. Harry Potter to be exact. "I asked the Flash what a suitable book would be for a child. Apparently this one is quite popular."

Jason turned it reverently in his hands, looking at all the brightly lit stars and colourful writing. He set it down like it was a diamond, smoothing out the front as he picked up the other one. "Can I finish this one first?"

Diana smiled, sitting down in front of Jason now he hadn't bolted or turned into Bruce like he usually did. "Of course. I just thought you would like to have one of your own when you were finished. That way, I won't be expecting any more thieves to have broken into my room when I come here."

"Sorry again," Bruce said.

"It was for a good cause," She excused.

She hung around for a while, at first just sitting there while Bruce helped Jason write his name carefully on the first page. Then, when Jason still didn't run off or hide, she started trying to make conversation with him. It wasn't going well. Not at all, she started off with the wrong topics, asking about where he grew up and his mother. Jason, naturally, got defensive, telling her it was none of her business and Bruce was all he needed now. Yet, Diana still tried, and eventually, he hit gold.

"So you're a princess?" Jason asked.

"Yes," Diana said like it was no big deal announce her royal heritage. "Where I come from my mother is Queen of the Amazons. We train and fight under her rule."

"Like Mulan," Jason whispered before asking so many questions about Diana's home island and how she was brought up that even Diana was looking a little worried about what she had unleased.

Needless to say, Jason's respect had grown exponentially by the time Diana was called away for monitor duty. He was like a little duckling at her side, trying to follow her further into the mountain so they could spend time together.

"I must do my duty," She tried, kneeling at Jason's height to explain again why he couldn't come with her.

"But I'll be quiet. I have my book, and Bruce gets sleepy around this time so he's no fun."

"Well, I won't be having fun either. We must watch camera feeds for hours in case there is an emergency we must attend to."

Jason pouted, a rather impressive one too, Bruce seeing Diana's resolve crumbling at her new biggest fan. Bruce decided to butt in before it got nasty, knowing for a fact either Jason would get bored enough to be kicked out and Diana delegated to enemy, or he would be told something he didn't want to hear and Wonder Woman would be, once more, just another hero trying to make nice with him.

Jay needed heroes in his life. Even if Bruce didn't exactly like them himself.

"Jay, I think you're forgetting you need a shower."

"But-"

The pouty eyes didn't work on Bruce. Good as they were, Bruce had long grown immune to their power thanks to Dick. "Nuh uh, I let you go stinky this morning. So, shower, now, you don't want to offend a princess after all."

That did it. In a blink Jason was scurrying away towards the showers, leaving Diana to send a grateful smile Bruce's way as she went to her monitor duty.

This time, when Jason nodded off and Bruce was able to pry the book from his hands, he didn't join Jason in sleep land. For the first time in days he knew that Kal was at the mountain. He'd been out longer than he'd ever been today, and Bruce would have thought all night too, had he not heard a whisper of cloth and no shadow halt for a moment outside his door.

Kal was ragged, more ragged than the morning Dick dislocated his shoulder. His hair was limp, unwashed and hanging over his eyes like a badge of defeat. The rest of him may have seemed pristine at first glance, but there was a weariness to him that weighed him down. Bruce was honestly astonished Kal floated at all when he came to Bruce's door, from the looks of him now, sitting in the middle of the J.L lounge, he looked like gravity was his worst enemy.

Bruce took a quick look around before sitting himself near the hallway that led to the monitor room. He was sure that down there was the way out, which was probably another reason he wasn't allowed in that part of the mountain. It was a simple signal, what he was sending, that Kal wasn't getting out without going through Bruce. A stupid signal really since Kal could easily push Bruce out of the way. But, Bruce was hoping his want to keep Bruce safe and happy would mean he wouldn't try anything.

"What?" Bruce asked.

He didn't need to be specific in his question. Really, there were a lot of things he wanted answering, but only one that Kal had tried so hard to keep from him.

The gloom on his face became worse, bad enough that to any other man they may stop their questioning and let him be to gather himself. The only problem was if Bruce did that then Kal would put his shields back up. He would fly off back into the unknown and leave Bruce with nothing. No, Bruce needed to strike while Kal was at his weakest, only then would he actually get some answers.

"Kal," he prompted.

There was panic, clear in the shaking of his hands if nowhere else. He could see Kal grasping, trying to deflect as he said, "The Flash spoke to me yesterday. You weren't talking to him so he started asking me things."

Oh, Kal was good, Bruce gave him that. The temptation to finally have this out was too good for him to pass up, far too good and Kal knew that. Bruce considered him, carefully monitoring everything he could. It was a deflection, a good one, but this topic Kal had chosen could potentially wreck him even more. If it did, Bruce could kill two birds with one stone.

"What kind of things?" It was a gamble. One he hoped would pay off.

Kal's eyes flitted to Bruce's neck and stayed there, roving over the scar Bruce often forgot he had. "He told me things that made me think. You really did that to yourself, didn't you?"

"I told you I did."

Kal nodded. "I believe you."

That threw Bruce. He had been geared up to show him again all the evidence that pointed towards Bruce doing it himself. This, no, this was too sudden for it to have happened just now. Maybe the avoidance hadn't solely been because he was busy flying off.

"You do?"

Kal huffed. "Flash, he's a smart man, his day job-"

"As a police officer," Bruce filled in.

"Yeah," Kal agreed, a little taken back before he schooled himself again. "He said the same things you did, and he does this thing for a living so-"

"You trusted his word over mine," Bruce finished, feeling a little bit hurt at that. He didn't really blame Kal when he thought back on it later, Bruce wouldn't believe him either if he'd pulled the same stuff.

"No, you're not listening to me," Kal snapped. "It's not about your word or his or who's more credible. It's- it's me, okay? I didn't want to think that you would do that. That you could do that yourself."

"Because the life I had was so wonderful," Bruce hissed.

"Because I love you," Kal corrected. "I've loved you from the moment I set foot on this planet. Your life is so precious to me and the thought that someone could do that to you was unthinkable. But what was even more unthinkable was the idea that you would do that to yourself. That I would- I would make you want to do that. You have no idea how confusing it's been on this planet, to figure out things and people that look so similar to kryptonians but aren't. How nice it was to think that I wasn't alone in being confused on this planet because you were too. I knew, I knew you were using me back home, I did, but, it was everything I'd wanted since I was thirteen and I just couldn't say no. I should have."

Bruce shifted where he sat. He thought the right protocol for this situation would be a hug. If it were Jason or Dick sitting in front of him like this he would have wrapped them up in a heartbeat. But Kal wasn't a kid, and Bruce didn't really understand what he knew of adult norms. He knew if it was himself he wouldn't want to be touched, he would want to be alone to stew or put in front of something so he could vent his feelings out, channel them into anger. He wasn't exactly the best example of normal however, so he sat there and did nothing. He let Kal cry out the worst of it before mumbling, "It wasn't you."

"What?"

"What I did. It wasn't because I let you touch me."

"Yes it was." Kal tried to wipe his eyes clear, failing miserably as more tears came out. "If it wasn't for that my father wouldn't have acted so quickly. I knew, if I let myself be with you this would happen. He'd tried it with Lois. Made us fight, told me things that I knew weren't true just to break us up."

Suddenly, Bruce didn't feel so bad about the whole sleeping together thing. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he did feel a little bit of remorse for using Kal's feelings to his advantage. Just a little. But if Kal had known what was going to happen, Bruce didn't feel like so much of a bad guy. It turned out they were both using each other.

"Then why did you let him?" Why did you not believe me? Bruce really wanted to ask.

He knew the answer even before Kal choked, "He's my father." Kal took a deep breath so his next words didn't wobble so much. "He was a good man Bruce. He really was. He used to stand up to the council, he made them listen and gained us another couple of years. He kept me and my mother safe while the rest of our planet died in ignorance and pride. Did you know, on krypton, all interstellar travel had been prohibited. We could have found ourselves a new planet to live on. An uninhabited one, or sought out refuge from the Green Lanterns. We could have asked for help, but everyone on our planet thought it was better to die than do that. Except my father. He sent out probes, looking for the perfect place for us. He was going to send me on my own first. I was just a baby so I wouldn't have known any better. He wanted a better life for me, then us when he had the chance. He was a good man."

"Was," Bruce said.

Kal's breathing had picked up again, fighting a whole other round of tears as they threatened to fall. "You should have heard some of the things he said when we first got here. It was a few months after everything had lost its glamour." When the El's had settled and no longer marvelled at every little thing. Bruce remembered it, he remembered coming down one morning and seeing Lara pick at her eggs, looking at it like it was dirt. "He couldn't believe this was our life now. He called you all primitives. I thought it was funny 'cause I'd never met a primitive before. Mother was alright, she was thankful, really, just a little sad that she could never see or eat the things she wanted again. But Father…" He looked at Bruce, a sudden pity in his eyes Bruce knew he wouldn't appreciate. "Did you know you were his experiment?"

"His what?" Oh, Bruce definitely didn't like that look.

"He wanted to know how far behind humans were so he would test you. You remember your kryptonian lessons?"

Bruce nodded. He remembered them. He'd been offered them when he was around nine. The El's had been there a year blending in and being their usual selves. Then, one morning, Jor had burst into the library where Bruce was teaching Kal to read, and said that Kal was beginning to lose sight of his heritage. Kal hadn't seen the point of kryptonian when he was going to live on Earth the rest of his life but his family insisted. They had even invited Bruce to join in when it looked like Kal was going to throw a fit.

The lessons had been okay. Going good actually. Until one day, just as Bruce was grasping the basics, Jor had told him he wasn't going to have them anymore. When he was older, learning the language out of spite himself, he had recalled the phrase he'd said to Lara after dismissing him. Jor had said Bruce was butchering their language and that it had been a long shot for someone of his background to understand it anyway.

"Father wanted to know if you could learn our language. First, for your intelligence. Then, because he needed something to code his documents in. You know, I probably should have known something was wrong with this then. But mother, she said that the lessons were a way to keep our heritage alive, that father was trying to preserve our planet and he was just a bit upset that you didn't get it as fast as father wanted you to. She always had a way of making me forget what he was doing."

"Experimenting," Bruce repeated, the word not leaving his brain.

Kal went on. "Then there were your grades. Father didn't want you to be home schooled. Alfred used to fight with him about it on a night before he checked in on you. Father wanted to see how humans interacted, how different stimulus would affect the outcome of each day. Sometimes he would take your money before you went out, and see what you did for lunch. Other days he would have Alfred drop you off and see how that affected the outcome. Mother said the reports were just so father could see how well you were doing. She was worried too about you telling our secret so I had to make sure I knew everything you'd done that day." He stopped as if something had occurred to him. "I wasn't intending on being a spy for them. I actually enjoyed spending time with you."

"What else?" Bruce demanded.

Kal looked away. "Galas were always a big thing. Father liked dressing you up and seeing how others responded to it. He would ask certain people to approach you, or request certain music. His favourite thing to do was to have the band play certain tunes from the Zorro soundtrack."

He remembered freezing up. He didn't know why at the time, just an unconscious motion as the music drifted over him. He had been sick more than once, he remembered, while feeling like that. Truthfully, he should have connected the dots of his panic attacks and the music, but he'd tried so hard to block out that night, music included. He only saw the pattern now because he'd seen it again so recently.

Kal looked guilty when Bruce caught his eye again. "I didn't know," He murmured. "Not until Alfred told me the night we came back from the play. I swear, I didn't."

Bruce believed him, if only because they were being truthful right now.

"How long?" Bruce asked. How long did the experiments go on for?

"Until you were thirteen. As soon as you did father… he called you defected. Said there was something wrong with you." Bruce did remember a certain shift in their dynamic when Bruce hit his teen years. He had put it down to familiarity and lack of patience. "He would still listen when I told him what you did, but mother was the one who was more interested then."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Another truthful answer Bruce had to believe. "But, then you ran away. I was the only one who went looking. I thought they were just hoping you would come back. Then you did come back and and… I should have noticed. I should have stopped him."

"Yes."

"I think it was pride," Kal murmured. "He didn't like that you had got the upper hand on us. That you had snuck in and stole from us, had formed an attack and we were powerless to stop you if the Joker hadn't turned on you. You were his new favourite experiment again."

"You sided with him." Bruce gathered himself. There was more to this than a simple confession. Kal was trying to get Bruce to understand and, one some level, he did. As much as he wanted to blame Kal, he couldn't.

Had Bruce heard his own father call someone primitive he would have laughed too. He'd seen rich kids with the same prejudices as their predecessors, ignorant to what they were being taught to do. That was Kal. He didn't understand what Jor was impressing on him, what he was doing because Jor was his father and Jor knew best. Worse, Jor was a kind of hero figure to Kal. He'd defeated the odds and brought Kal and Lara to a better world. He was Kal's saviour so why wouldn't he be right when he tormented Bruce?

That still didn't mean it was right. But, he was understanding enough to forgive Kal in the role he had played growing up.

Bruce focused again on what he needed to know. "What happened?"

"Happened?" Those wide eyes were back. Fearful and beseeching at the same time. Begging Bruce to leave it alone, that Kal was handling it and Bruce shouldn't worry about it.

"This didn't just happen overnight Kal. Something's wrong. With home? With… Dick? Jason heard you talking about him. If my kid-" He couldn't finish, not only because the thought was unbearable. Kal had broke. His face was screwed up, trying to block out what he knew was his fault. Bruce was on it like a bloodhound. "What happened? What happened to Dick? Kal?"

"He's gone," Kal whispered.

"Gone? What do you- Kal please." He didn't know what he was begging for. Whether it was for him to be wrong and Dick was back at the manor safe and sound, or whether he was hoping Kal could tell him Dick wasn't dead.

"He's gone. When I got back. It happened so quickly. They were going to school and then Alfred just didn't come back. Father said the same people who had you took Dick as well. But when I found you he wasn't there. I've been looking. I'm still looking I swear, but he's not in Gotham. Father said that we just have to wait. Then, he said that he's just a boy and we should be focusing on ourselves, covering this up or- he said there was no point focusing on a kid we could just replace."

If Bruce had been on the fence about Kal before, he was convinced he was being sincere now. Kal was a horrible liar. Really horrid, and it was mostly because he didn't like to lie. Right now, the horror on his face, the waiting for Bruce to start yelling and screaming at him, and the fact he wasn't dismissing Dick like his parents had, he could see there was real concern there.

"He said that Bruce. He said that like Dick was just another thing we owned. I was so angry when I saw Jason. I thought you were just like them and I couldn't understand why. But you're not. I know you're not, I was just hurt and… I can't believe I didn't see this before. I'm so sorry Bruce."

"What." He cleared his throat, trying again, "What do you think happened?" He needed facts. Whatever drama was going on at the manor could wait. He would deal with Jor and sort out Kal afterwards, but this, Dick, was more important right now.

"I don't-" At Bruce's look Kal tried again. "There was a note. It was in my room when father refused to go looking again. It was from Alfred, telling me to leave them alone. I think he took Dick."

"Where is it?" He needed to check, to make sure it was Alfred's handwriting. If it was then that meant Dick was safe. Alfred would never let anything happen to him

Kal wiped his eyes clear again. "You're not yelling. You're going to help?"

"That's my kid," Bruce spat. "I couldn't care less if you were your father right now, I need to know he's alright. Now get me the damn note."

Kal fled in a blur, gone for two minutes total before returning with a worn piece of paper Bruce remembered from Alfred's letter set. It had been a gift from Bruce for father's day when he was twelve. He'd seen Kal gift Jor with presents he'd spent weeks picking out and, for the first time, didn't want to spend the holiday watching all that merriment from the background. He'd went out in secret, scouring the stores on his lunch break until he came upon a stationary shop. Alfred never appreciated anything flashy, he said he never had any use for it. But letters he had to write all the time, and it would be nice if Alfred wrote to England with some nice stationary so Bruce had bought it.

He hadn't seen it in a while. Only on special occasions really, like the time Bruce had spent the summer at a camp because the El's thought it was normal for them to do so. He got a letter like this every day on this paper, the same slanting 't's' and curving 'I's'. This was definitely Alfred's handwriting.

Bruce looked for more. Any sign of haste or code written in the words. None.

The note was simple, like Kal said. It mostly consisted of Alfred telling Kal Dick was safe, that they weren't coming back, that Kal shouldn't look for them. Bruce let himself linger over the last few lines _'I'm taking him somewhere safe. Somewhere your father can't twist him like he's done Master Bruce.'_ If Barry wasn't the sole cause for Kal's perception being shifted Bruce would put very good money that this was a close second.

Dick was safe. Somewhere Jor couldn't get to him. Bruce would have to trust in that, since, and he'd been reluctant to think about this, if Alfred really did have Dick, it would be near impossible to find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the news, this is the end of part one. I'm not sure if there will be two (probably yes) or three different parts but since this is so long and I'm going in a different direction for the next few chapters I decided to split them up. It just seemed right. Hope you guys can forgive this and keep reading it when I post the next instalment.   
> Just thought I would also say you guys are amazing. Thank you for all the comments, they really make my day when I read them.


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